


Catch Us If You Can

by MariniDagger



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Complete, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Minor Violence, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 88,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5776174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariniDagger/pseuds/MariniDagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a bad idea joining Anya on a rescue mission when Lincoln goes missing. It's a worse idea joining up with Clarke and Raven looking for an equally missing Octavia.</p><p>But a cross country road trip might be the best thing Lexa's ever done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Washington DC, Part 1

Years of waking up at the crack of dawn threw endless unexpected events at Lexa. The first morning run she went on after moving into her new apartment, one following a perfectly mapped out map through a residential neighborhood and looping near a wooded park, she wound up with a side mirror rammed into her upper thigh that left a bruise so defined, she could have gone to any mechanic and have them identity the make, model, and year of the car that hit her. She didn’t need to go that far, as the suburban mom climbing out of a minivan tipped her off. Lexa sat there, listening to the woman ranting between sips of the Starbucks cup clenched in her hands; Lexa was to blame for little Steven being late to morning soccer practice, how dare she have the audacity to run on the sidewalk while wearing a neon green tank top and running shoes that even the astronauts on the International Space Station could see, did Lexa even understand how long it would take to realign her side mirror and how long she’d be stuck unable to see what was on the road next to her? By the time Lexa made it back to the apartment, she vowed to wake up two hours earlier the next time she set out for a run, before she wound up the hood ornament on that woman’s car again.

There had been advantages to the mornings, when she wasn’t picking gravel out of the palms of her hands and icing her leg for a full week. Mornings usually meant free time for grad students, most of the classes being held late in the afternoons or at night to help out those working through internships or trying to scrape together tuition money from miscellaneous day jobs. For Lexa, she settled into a TA position with Professor Nyko; he mentored her through her undergrad years, finding Lexa in nearly all of his upper level sociology courses, and wrote her recommendation letter for the graduate counseling program. Whenever exams rolled around for his Intro to Sociology class, he left Lexa in charge for the session, trusting her to keep the hundred or so students in line. While the students wandered in, expecting a sleep deprived grad student to be sitting at the front of the class with a box for them to toss their exams in, they pulled out their less than subtle cheating methods: chapter reviews from the textbook on the floor covered by their backpacks, water bottles with definitions written on the inside of the label, diagrams drawn on the desk in light pencil. Instead, they faced Lexa, wide awake as she circled the room; ten minutes into the first exam of the semester, she caught one student with the answers written on his hip. He might have gotten away with it had he written them on his arm or ankle; instead he spent the exam tugging his pants away from his waist and staring at his crotch. She let the guy go on for a while before walking over, ripping his exam in half, and sending him out the door.

“Bit of overkill, wasn’t it?” Nyko asked, seeing the torn exam at the top of the pile.

“I call it setting an example for the rest of the semester.”

But near hit and runs and crotch glimpsing cheaters hadn’t prepared Lexa for Anya barreling into Lexa’s room before sunlight even started creeping through the curtains on her windows; getting hit by a car might have been less painful than Anya jumping on top of her still sleeping body, grasping Lexa by the shoulders and shaking her until she woke up, screaming “Where’s Lincoln?” inches from her face. Between Lexa shoving Anya off of her and trying to get back to sleep, she got the full story from Anya; Anya heard Lincoln on the phone with someone when she came back from her shift at four that morning, next thing she knows Lincoln’s sneaking out of the apartment with a suitcase in hand, climbing into a car parked outside with some girl in the driver’s seat. As many skills as Lexa prided herself on having, from intimidating people with one look to being able to take down a man twice her size, keeping tabs on either of her siblings in her sleep wasn’t one of them. Anya was the cop of the family, she was more qualified to track him down and answer her own question than Lexa was.

Lexa listed every rational step they should take to find Lincoln; call the police and get one of Anya’s colleagues to put out a search for him, wait for Lincoln to come back home, or better yet, call Lincoln and ask where he went. Anya shot down every idea: Lincoln hadn’t been missing long enough to be reported, plus she didn’t get any details on the car except that it was “black and might have been a Honda or a Toyota”, he might have been kidnapped and would never come home because his body was floating down the Potomac while this girl had all his belongings, and that Anya started calling him the minute the car drove off, but he hadn’t answered. Anya’s only solution was to try to follow Lincoln and the mystery driver; Lexa objected, begged, even considered calling the police on Anya herself and forcing them to give her a psych evaluation, only to have a bag packed with her own clothes shoved into her arms and Anya leading her out of the apartment.

 

Lincoln’s Jeep, Anya decided, was the best option for their mission. Lexa’s Cobalt pushed it driving the few miles from the apartment to campus most days. Lincoln called it a barely rolling curse; Lexa had already gone through two batteries, a radiator, a new windshield, and an antenna held straight by electrical tape and a coat hanger in the six short years she owned it, but she’d be damned if she got rid of it. Lexa eyed Anya’s perfectly fine Prius sitting in the parking spot next to her car. Anya refused, claiming she wasn’t about to put that many miles on the car when it still had a new car smell to it. Saying “that many miles” implied a manhunt spanning who knows how many days, days Lexa didn’t want to imagine being cooped up with a hell bent Anya relying on the Find My iPhone app to track Lincoln down.

The pair set out, following the blip of Lincoln’s phone out of Dc and out towards Alexandria.

 

“That doesn’t sound right,” Lexa said as the engine revved for three straight minutes once they hit the highway heading south of DC. Any second she expected a belt in the engine to snap, or smoke to start pouring from the hood. Anya pushing the speed limit didn’t help. “There’s probably a reason Lincoln didn’t take the Jeep wherever he went.” Anya ignored Lexa’s comments until Jeep shuddered and shifted gears, nearly sending Anya face first into the steering wheel. She turned towards Lexa in the passenger seat, knocking the smug smirk off Lexa’s face with a slap to the back of her head.

Anya remained determined, standing outside the Jeep with the hood propped open; maybe years of hanging around the motor pool at the police station when she wasn’t responding to a call taught her a thing or two about vehicle maintenance. Lexa waited, keeping an eye on the app still tracking Lincoln. The pinpoint on the map sat near the National Harbor. He wasn’t being held hostage or kidnapped or any of the other imminent threat scenarios Anya imagined; he was out with a friend near the beach, not needing Lexa or Anya to be getting involved in. His Jeep breaking was the sign they needed to back off, go home, and take a break for once in their lives. Summer was supposed to mean no classes for Lexa, Anya on two weeks paid vacation she saved all year, just a quiet time that their brother would eventually join them on.

“Can’t we just call the police?” Lexa leaned out the window as she spoke. Anya stepped to the side to get a better look at her.

“I am the police.” She answered. Lexa caught the smug look on her face before Anya turned back to the engine. A highly qualified police officer that was staring at a pitch black engine in near darkness without a flashlight, dragging her only sister around on a wild goose chase for a brother riding in a car that’s license plate she couldn’t remember and a driver Anya had absolutely no visual on except that she had long hair.

“Well, how about you give one of your fellow officers a chance to be a hero. Probably wouldn’t kill the morale at the station if one of them did you a favor.”

“I don’t trust them enough when one of my siblings’ lives is on the line.” Anya walks over to the passenger’s side. The usual snark in Anya’s voice dropped. She’s protective to a fault over Lincoln and Lexa; years of being the one to raise them both, making sure they got to school on time, always had a roof over their heads, and food in the kitchen, justified some of her actions. If there had been any indication that Lincoln was being dragged into something like an organ harvesting ring, Lexa would have been all for Anya’s quick step into action. But when it came down to background checks on their friends or significant others, asking her buddies on patrol to keep an eye out for the cars they rode in on nights out, keeping her own curfew set for them in her mind, she pushed things. Whatever reason Lincoln had for sneaking off without telling them might have solely been to keep Anya from hounding him or whoever he left with. He’ll probably wish he had left a note or called once Anya gets her hands on him.

“Besides, you and I are more than capable of finding him on our own.” Anya hollered as she walked back to the hood, continuing her attempt to find the damage to the Jeep. Lexa leaned forward in her seat, resting her chin on her arms placed atop the dashboard. The faint light of morning began creeping up the horizon. No city buildings blocked the view of the sky from this part of the highway, just the dark stretches of the sky meeting the ground. If one good thing had come out of the morning so far, it was the view of the dim stars not blocked by skyscrapers littering the downtown blocks. For one second, Lexa felt calm enough to fall back asleep, even if only for a few minutes.

 

“I have no idea what I’m looking for in here.” Anya yelled as she slammed the hood and climbed back in the car. Lexa jolted awake, back into full blown “never forgiving Anya for this stunt for the rest of their lives and any reincarnations they might experience” mode. Anya sat in silence for a second, giving Lexa enough time to get her thudding heart back to a normal pace.

 Anya had called their usual mechanic, a guy named Wick that mostly knew what he was doing. Lexa found him competent enough at what he did; he was the one responsible for keeping her beloved Cobalt held together with more than just duct tape and a lot of hopefulness. If anyone was going to get Lincoln’s Jeep started again, it was him. Wick comes out, starts the Jeep, they go back home and reevaluate how ridiculous the whole idea was. Maybe Lincoln would be back by then, sitting in the living room of the apartment watching TV, wondering what possessed his sisters to steal his vehicle and take off. Anya could take the fall for it, and Lexa could go back to her _It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia_ marathon.

Anya kept the phone tight to her ear, her ego no doubt shot by her inability to fix whatever thing in the engine she blew up just by glaring at it long enough. Lexa caught the muffled _“Mecha Station Auto, you blow it, we tow it,”_ as Wick answered. Anya rattled off the symptoms of the break down, conveniently leaving out that it started when she decided to floor it on the freeway. If Lincoln’s Jeep had been outfitted like Anya’s police cruiser, they’d have reached him in five minutes, sirens blaring with him and the girl cuffed in the back seat. Probably kick up some déjà vu for everyone, not being the first time one of Lincoln’s friends wound up handcuffed and in a cop car thanks to Anya; the last one, an ex-girlfriend named Luna, made the mistake of coming by the apartment early for a date, Lincoln still showering in the bathroom. Luna waited in the living room with Anya; Lexa walked out of her room to refill her bowl of Cap’n Crunch, only to be met with Luna curled in the corner of a chair with Anya holding a flashlight to her face asking her questions that probably wouldn’t be legal in a real interrogation. Lincoln only found out when Lexa banged on the bathroom door, yelling that Anya handcuffed Luna and had her sitting in the squad car outside because of a “suspicious mark on her driving record.” Whatever Anya had planned once she got her hands on the girl who “kidnapped” her brother probably involved worse things, like police issues Tasers.

 

Thirty minutes after the phone call, things started to become clear. Anya refused to give up on her relentless tracking of Lincoln, even though the app still showed him around National Harbor. Anya managed to weasel her way into his bank account, partly thanks to Lexa.

“What was mom’s maiden name?”

“Darrow.” Lexa answered, unaware of Anya typing the answer into her phone. Leave it to Anya to make Lexa remember the mildly important details of their family history.

“Name of Lincoln’s first pet?” Anya paused, eyebrows furrowed. “Wasn’t it that little gecko thing he caught in the yard?”

“You mean Abe?”

“Our brother, the genius.” Anya mumbled, turning back to the phone. Within seconds she had access to his account, noting all the charges made to his account: his gym membership being paid at the beginning of the month, his share of the rent being withdrawn two weeks before, and the most recent charge for less than ten dollars at a gas station a few hours earlier, right after he went missing. Anya made sure to have a way back into the account that didn’t require Lexa to remember any more trivia from their childhoods, changing Lincoln’s password to _NatronaLincoln105_.

Lexa thought salvation arrived as a car pulled over behind them on the side of the road. All hope disappeared as she realized two things: One, Mecha Station Auto didn’t use a Honda Element as a tow truck. Two, the brunette woman in a red leather jacket getting out of the car was not Wick, fixer of all vehicles the Woods family managed to destroy. And three, the blonde woman in the grey t-shirt that climbed out of the car next was also not Wick. The two walked around the passenger side of the Jeep, faint bits of their conversation heard through the open window. The brunette propped an arm against the open window, the other lifting a small toolbox into Anya and Lexa’s view.


	2. Washington DC, Part 2

“Did someone call for a mechanic?” The brunette asked. Lexa nodded while Anya popped the hood of the Jeep open again. The two women circled to the front of the Jeep, Anya not wasting any time to follow them. Lexa followed, knowing Anya loved standing over people’s shoulders and telling them what they were doing wrong or what to check next; best not to leave her alone with them when the mechanic has large metal tools in her hand. Lexa stood off to the side on the grass, the other three women crowding around the Jeep, the mechanic stuck in the middle with barely enough room to breathe.

“Clarke, you want the extra special job of holding my flashlight?” the mechanic pulled a small flashlight from the toolbox on the ground, offering it to the blonde.

“Shut up, Raven.” Clarke whispered, taking the flashlight and holding it between her and Raven’s heads. Anya backed away, joining Lexa on the grass. She kept her eyes trained on Raven, her fingertips digging into her upper arms. Clarke looked back at the sisters while Raven worked; Lexa kept her stare focused on Raven. This was about fixing the Jeep, not making friends.

“They don’t know what they’re doing,” She said, watching Raven lean further under the hood. Raven had to know something about cars, especially if Wick sent her out to one of his most frequent customers. The repairs on Lexa’s car a few weeks before probably covered Raven’s pay for the entire month; no way would he send some lack wit fresh out of high school to touch Lincoln’s Jeep. “Assuming she can even slightly fix it, we’ll drive the Jeep back, park it exactly where we found it, and I guess we can take the Prius. Only because I don’t want your car leaving us stranded in this exact same spot.”

“Or we could just go home and you can stalk his every move from the comfort of your bed like a half sane person.” Lexa would take hearing Anya call out updates to his location every five minutes if it kept them from chasing after him across the city, in a Prius of all things. At least the Jeep had some leg room and a sense of comfort in the worn leather seats; the Prius still had the paper floor mats from the dealership in the back. You can’t complete a missing person’s search when the owner of the car still has a “No food or drink inside the vehicle” rule active. Searching was a waste of everyone’s time. Lincoln had a 100% success rate on leaving the apartment with other people and coming home. The only reason Anya kept on about it was because this time he left with a girl and not one of the guys from the gym or one of his buddies from the home brewing group he joined.

“You two might be screwed,” Raven calls out, still reaching into the Jeep, checking who knows what. “Your engine’s not shot, but from what Wick told me, sounds like your transmission is. You’re going to have to get it towed to TonDC Transmission, way too big of a thing for us to handle back at Mecha.”

“Towed? If it still starts, can’t we just drive it back there?” Anya asked. A couple extra miles couldn’t do any more damage than Anya’s lead foot already had. Raven pulled herself out from under the hood, laughing as she wiped her hands on a grease stained rag in her back pocket.

“Sure, Cheekbones,” Raven walked over to where Anya stood, Clarke following right behind her. “As long as you keep this thing in first gear.”

“Anya, don’t.” Lexa warned.

Anya clenched her jaw, the muscles tightening on her face drawing a smirk out of Raven.

“Shut up, Lexa,” Anya snapped, turning right back to Raven. “Then we’ll keep it in first.” Off went Anya, setting another impossible goal for their mission. Lexa started the math in her head; if her usual five mile runs took around forty five minutes to finish, and they were a good fifteen miles from the apartment, she could easily make it back in under four hours. Only if she pushed Anya into a ditch somewhere along the way though.

“Fine by me. You two have fun driving down the highway at twenty miles an hour,” Raven grabbed the toolbox from Clarke, patting Anya on the arm as they walked back to her car. She turned to look back over her shoulder as they walked. “Just don’t come crying to me at the shop when that thing goes boom.”

Lexa could see the fibers in Anya’s mind snap. The small ties that grounded the anger prone part of her mind to the rational thinking one severed in one quick swoop as she processed Raven’s words. Flashbacks of the friendly boxing match Lincoln held between the two of them after hours at the gym one night flooded Lexa’s mind. One minute she’s celebrating with Lincoln over a well-placed jab to the temple that knocked Anya to the ground, the next Anya’s got her arms around Lexa’s neck and legs around her waist, dragging them both down to the canvas before Anya took a few cheap shots at Lexa’s ribs and head. Lincoln wound up tearing them apart, dragging Anya around the gym as he looked for a first aid kit, knowing the second he let her go she would rush back at Lexa, still lying on the canvas half dazed. At least Lexa’s black eye healed after a week; Anya’s ego was still bruised after two years, refusing to acknowledge that the match even happened whenever it comes up in conversation. Anya insists the pictures of Lexa with the black eye came from another run in with that minivan driving mom.

“Is that a threat?”

Raven and Clarke turned around. Clarke’s hand flew to her forehead, mumbling under her breath as Raven shoved the toolbox into her chest and walked back towards Anya. Lexa felt for Clarke; something told her this wasn’t the first time she witnessed Raven about to do something incredibly stupid. Lexa grabbed Anya’s arm, trying to hold her back. She shook out of her grasp, closing the gap between her and Raven in two steps. Raven tilted her head up at the taller woman, daring Anya to advance on her. Anya reached in her back pocket, pulling out her slim black wallet. She let it unfold in front of Raven, the gold Metropolitan Police Department badge with Anya’s lieutenant rank inscribed on it right at eye level.

“Nice badge there, Sheriff Woody. Buzz Lightyear over there have her Star Command ID in her wallet too?”

Anya lunged at Raven, dropping her badge in the dirt. Clarke and Lexa moved at the same time, trying to slip between the two of them and keep them apart. Anya had one hand on the pocket of Raven’s jacket, swinging her other hand towards Raven’s head. Lexa nearly received another face full of Anya’s fist, ducking out of the way at the last second. Lexa bumped arms with Clarke as they stood back to back pulling their companions apart. Someone, possibly Raven, most likely Anya blinded in her fit of rage, tugged Lexa by the braid, dragging her head back until it slammed against Clarke’s; Lexa only realized it had been Clarke when a mass of blonde hair covered her face as Clarke turned her head to see what hit her.

“We don’t want to fight you, Anya.” Clarke called over her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around Raven’s waist as she kept ducking to avoid Raven’s arms swinging towards Anya. Raven used Clarke’s shoulders for leverage, pulling herself up from Clarke’s grasp, ready to crawl over Lexa’s own shoulders to get back into the fight.

“Then you’re the ones that are going to lose.” Anya clawed at the collar of Clarke’s shirt, her elbow jammed near Lexa’s neck. Lexa pushed against Anya, one hand on her hip, the other braced against her shoulder, but Anya dug her heels into the dirt, pushing back at Lexa. Lexa swore she say blood on the edge of her tank top; who it belonged to was anyone’s guess. Anya and Lexa’s boxing match had nothing on this; not even Lincoln would have been able to pull all of them apart.

Lexa felt a leg against hers, sweeping at her ankle. The four women drag each other down to the grass in a heap. Raven Landed on top of Lexa, the brace on her left leg digging between a few of Lexa’s ribs. Anya lie tangled with Clarke a next to them. Anya seemed to forget who she started fighting in the first place, pinning Clarke to the ground without even looking to see where Raven ended up. Anya kept one hand on Clarke’s shoulder and her fist back, aimed at Clarke’s head. The headline on the news flashed through Lexa’s mind, _Drivers Catch Roadside Brawl Between Civilian and Police Officer_. Someone in the passing cars had to notice the backyard wrestling match going on between the cars; then again, nobody had stopped when Anya stood outside with the Jeep’s hood popped open, nobody except Raven and Clarke. Looks of disappointment would fill the station downtown when one of Anya’s buddies drags them in for processing and throws them in a cell together. Oh god, and Lincoln’s going to have to be the one to bail them out, finding out the whole fight started because Anya caught him leaving. He’d be better off letting them sit in jail; at least then he’d enjoy some peace and quiet at home.

Lexa lie on the ground, propped on her elbows watching as Anya prepared to swing. Raven mirrored Lexa, her leg still resting on Lexa’s chest, both too shocked to even try to separate them. Clarke reached up to the arm keeping her pinned down, digging her thumb into the fresh bleeding cut on Anya’s forearm. That answered the mysterious blood stain question. Anya screamed and rolled off of Clarke, her hand wrapped around the wound. Clarke propped her head up, seeing Anya kneeling on the ground next to her; Clarke let her head fall back in the dirt, breathing out a long sigh.

Raven and Lexa scrambled to get to their feet. Lexa held a hand out to help Raven up, eyes glancing to the brace on her leg. Raven frowned and slapped her hand away, pulling herself up and walking to Clarke. Whether she was stubborn about getting help or bitter about the fight, Lexa didn’t dwell on it, crossing over to Anya. A firm smack to the back of Anya’s head drew the attention of Clarke and Raven, both shaky as Raven pulled Clarke to her feet. Clarke laughed, a quiet exhale that tugged the corners of her mouth up slightly before Raven side eyed her.

“You fought well.” Anya mumbled to Clarke, still keeping her hand clenched around her arm. The time for compliments had passed. Lexa left Anya sitting on the ground.

“We’re done here,” Lexa walked to the Jeep, reaching through the window and grabbing her phone. The day had dragged on long enough, even if it was only six in the morning. Only two hours had passed since Lincoln left, since Anya pulled her into this whole mess. Maybe if she hadn’t been busy trying to keep her own sister from knocking her upside the head, she could have enjoyed the sunrise over the highway. Better yet, she could have enjoyed it from the comfort of her own bed, a natural alarm clocking slipping in through her window. A much better start to the day than this. “You’re calling Gustus, he’s bringing one of the police tow trucks, and we’re going home. You can track Lincoln all you want from the apartment, or you can call someone else to go on this ridiculous manhunt with you. I’m done.”

If Anya wouldn’t listen to Lexa, her only hope was Anya’s partner Gustus. He would talk her down, convince her she was irrational, or if anything, just throw her in a pair of handcuffs and give her a taste of her own medicine; Gustus was a big guy, he could handle one of Anya’s physical outbursts much better than Lexa could. Lexa watched as Anya dialed Gustus’ number. Once she was sure he was the one on the phone and not someone else who would add fuel to Anya’s over protective fire, she headed back to the Jeep. She’d wait there until Gustus came with the truck and took control of the situation.

“Lexa, wait.” Clarke yelled as Lexa walked away from the scene. If she turned around, Clarke would probably shove her lawyer’s information in Lexa’s face and tell her to be expecting a call about the upcoming lawsuit. That’d look great on Lexa’s future job applications; nothing screams competent counselor like a lawsuit over a two minute brawl with a cop, a mechanic, and a blonde. It sounded like the set up for a cheap bar joke. No letter of recommendation Professor Nyko wrote could save her; a letter from each of Time’s 100 Most Influential People wouldn’t even dig her out of this hole.

Lexa reached the door of the Jeep. Her hands wrapped around the handle, tugging the door open half an inch before a hand pressed it shut. Of course she recognized that hand, she only spent half of the fight with it shoved in her face; she might have recognized it better than her own at that point.

“Lexa.” Clarke spoke softer this time. The anger from her voice faded. Desperation laced Lexa’s name as it fell out of her mouth. Clarke leaned against the door, Lexa’s hand still clutched to the handle. Sweat beaded between her palm and the course plastic of the handle. Lexa chalked it up to the growing heat that came with the sunrise, not Clarke’s blue eyes locked with hers. She saw no malice, no sense of urgency to have Lexa and Anya punished for what just happened.

“What is it, Clarke.” Lexa snapped the end of her name off of her tongue. She felt the weight of Clarke’s arm bump against hers; intentional or not, it drew Lexa’s focus down to their bodies, the awareness of how close they stood striking her. Clarke stood her ground as Lexa took half a step back, wiping her palm on the side of her jeans.

“You said something about a Lincoln. Lincoln Woods?” How did Clarke know Lincoln? Neither her or Raven looked like the gym types that Lincoln usually befriended. Lincoln kept a small circle of friends, enough that Lexa knew most of them by face, if not by name. A few sporadic house parties she accompanied him to lead to most of their introductions, but surely she would have recognized Clarke from one if she had been there. People didn’t typically gather at the apartment either; big enough for three people to live in, not big enough for three people to host any major social gatherings in.

“Big buff guy? Lot of tattoos? Pretty intimidating face?” Clarke took Lexa’s silence for confusion.

“I know what my brother looks like,” Lexa replied. Clarke narrowed her eyes before glancing over Lexa. She, Anya, and Lincoln got that reaction a lot; most people never realized they were siblings until someone told them, sending them into an attempt to find any similar physical features. Like clockwork, Clarke looked over her shoulder towards Anya, still sitting on the ground on the phone, watching Raven retreat to her car as if she had a sneak attack planned. Clarke’s eyes fell back to Lexa’s face. She’s comparing the cheekbones; it’s always the cheekbones. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“You said you had a way to track him,” The panic in Clarke’s eyes rose again. Lexa tried to swallow past the knot in her throat. “His girlfriend Octavia is our roommate. We know she’s with him.”

Octavia. The name sounded familiar to Lexa. Lincoln sometimes mentioned the clients he trained at the gym, asking Lexa if a routine for this person or that person sounded too extreme or too tame for their fitness levels. No, she heard it too many time to just be a client.

“We’ll make you an offer.”

“This is not a negotiation.” Whoever these two were, however they knew this Octavia, it wouldn’t make things go any easier. More people, more quick tempered people who already have a dislike for Anya and Lexa, would only complicate things even more than a half destroyed Jeep and an early morning wrestling match did. As much as she hated to admit it, Anya had enough resources for them to find Lincoln on their own.

“We have a car. You and Anya don’t,” Clarke had Lexa there. Whatever Lincoln was up to, whether it was his own will or something Octavia had him coerced into, they needed a car. If they waited too long, it would be impossible to catch up to them; Lexa shuddered as she fell back onto Anya’s earlier worries of kidnappings or selling Lincoln’s organs on the Black Market. “The only way to find Lincoln and Octavia is if we join together.”


	3. Washington DC, Part 3

Clarke’s promise of an offer led the group to a nearby I Hop. Clarke and Raven waited in Raven’s Element until Gustus arrived with a tow truck to take the Jeep back into town. Clarke offered to drive Anya and Lexa to the restaurant; Raven and Anya shut the idea down before Lexa could even open her mouth. Instead, Clarke and Raven followed the tow truck down to TonDC Transmission, leading the way to the restaurant to work out their compromise. Anya argued the entire way; what if Clarke and Raven were playing the same scheme as their friend and wanted to rob them and harvest their organs?

“Do you trust them?” Gustus asked Lexa once Anya stopped ranting for more than thirty seconds.

“We have no other choice.” They did have another choice: walk away from the situation and let it blow over on its own, like Lexa had been begging for all morning. But Clarke and Raven threw a wrench into the plan; Clarke looked terrified not knowing where her friend was. She could easily use that against Lincoln. The last thing Lexa wanted was to find out Clarke and Raven thought the same worst case scenarios as Anya did and would wind up getting Lincoln caught and arrested for legitimate kidnapping.

 

Gustus dropped Anya and Lexa off, Clarke and Raven already inside the I Hop grabbing a table. He reminded them he’d keep close to the phone if they needed him or a fully equipped SWAT team to come help them.

Lexa led Anya to the booth near the back of the restaurant, Clarke and Raven sitting together on one side. The more obstacles between them, the better, though it might be safer without the silverware and glasses on the table. Raven distracted herself with the menu, mumbling to Clarke under her breath; Lexa caught the words “psycho” and “a couple of brooms short of a broom closet.” Anya resumed her stance from earlier on the side of the road, glaring at Raven, even with the menu covering her face; Lexa questioned what set her off more, the singling out her ability to drive a car without scrapping it or the Sherriff Woody comment. Lexa might have laughed at the Buzz Lightyear comment if the Anya kept her rage under control for a few more seconds.

Clarke messed with the napkin in front of her, twisting the corners and tearing them off. She glanced up at Lexa; her mouth opened and closed a few times, but whatever words she had planned slipped away from her. The waitress stopped by to take their orders, though nobody except Raven had even touched at the menu. Figuring out the plan seemed more important than food. Lexa ordered a round of coffee for the table for the moment; if any of them could even stomach the idea of food after they talked the situation over, maybe a plate of pancakes would be okay.

“I’m still waiting for an offer, Clarke.”

Clarke folded her hands together and leaned onto the table. She thought it out, prepared her plan like she was proposing a peace treaty in the middle of a war. Lexa had to give her credit; Clarke looked confident in a plan she was proposing to a stranger, a plan she had less than an hour to piece together.

“We work together. We take Raven’s car, you track Lincoln and Octavia down, and we bring them both back home.”

“No.” Raven and Anya said at the same time. Raven threw her menu on the table.

“She is not riding in Xena with us,” Raven waved her hand towards Anya. “She’ll probably attack us again while we’re driving. Do you want your head slammed into the dashboard by her? Because she’ll probably do it.”

“I’m the only one who wound up bleeding after that fight,” Anya held out her arm, a few layers of gauze wrapped around the wound. “And who names their car Xena?”

Clarke dropped her head to the table. Lexa shared the sentiment; nothing would get done with Raven and Anya in the same room together, let alone in a car constantly within arm’s reach of each other.

“You’re the one who started it,” Lexa reminded Anya, her memory seeming to have significantly lapsed over the last hour. Lexa pulled the cup of coffee away from Anya, in case she got any ideas for a second assault. “And your Prius is named Jean Grey, you have no room to talk about Xena.”

“Whose side are you on here?” Anya growled as Raven laughed, likely at the mental image of Anya trying to look intimidating at a traffic light in a Prius. As for which side she stood on? Whichever one brought as many people back to their respective homes with minimal collateral damage. Their streak already sucked with one Jeep and a bleeding arm counting against them; at this rate someone would wind up in a body bag by the end of the day.

Clarke picked her head up as the bickering stopped. Dark circles formed under Clarke’s eyes; were they from being up this early in the morning, or did someone land a few well-placed blows on her that Lexa hadn’t caught? Lexa wondered if they started their search for Octavia the same time Anya dragged Lexa out of bed to look for Lincoln.

Lexa pulled her phone from her pocket, unlocking it and placing it on the table. She pulled up the app they’d been tracking Lincoln with and slid the phone across the table towards Clarke. The pin moved since she last checked; instead of sitting at the National Harbor, the pin jumped west, over the bolded line marking the border between Virginia and Maryland. Clarke took the phone and studied the screen before handing it back to Lexa. Another state. Running around the outskirts of DC was one thing, something easy to deal with. But another state complicated things. Would they stop in Virginia, or keep going in who knows which direction? If they made a run for the Canadian border, Lexa was out.

“Does he live around there?”

“No. We live closer to the city,” Lexa locked her phone. “I was hoping you did.” Clarke shook her head.

“Our place is up near College Park.”

Did they realize Octavia went missing the same way Anya and Lexa caught on to Lincoln? At least Anya saw Lincoln walk through the front door and had an eye on him through the window overlooking the front of the apartment. What if Clarke woke up and realized Octavia was just gone; no note, no phone call, completely in the dark about everything? The whole thing unsettled Lexa more. Nothing good could come out of a situation involving the pair running off to another state without telling the friends and family they lived with.

“So we follow them around, and then what?” Lexa asked.

“They have to stop somewhere,” Clarke had a point. They’d either stop somewhere, just like they stopped at the Harbor, or turn around and head home. “Wherever it says they stopped, we’ll look for them.”

“What if they stop at a Wal-Mart? Do you plan on searching every aisle for them?”

“No. We check parking lots. Me and Raven could spot Octavia’s car a mile away.” Clarke’s description of the car sounded a hell of a lot better than Anya’s: a black Eclipse with a dented front bumper, a purple butterfly decal on one corner of the back window, and a “My other car is a Flying Ford Anglia” sticker on the other. If they could find the car, the four of them could stake out and hit Lincoln and Octavia with a surprise ambush and get things straightened out.

“You honestly think this will work?” Clarke shrugged. At least with Clarke and Raven, they had an extra set of eyes. Maybe they’d luck out and spot the car driving in the opposite direction on the highway heading back home; Octavia and Lincoln might have just gone to some random farmer’s market kind of thing that was a ways out of the city. Worse comes to worst, the pair winds up with a welcome party at the car when their done and everyone involved in the chase feels like an ass for a while. It wouldn’t be the worst first impression they’ve made on one of his girlfriends. Lincoln probably warned Octavia about his sisters with the Luna story, scared her right out of ever wanting to come by the apartment.

“We don’t really have any other-“

The table bounced between them, cutting Clarke off. Spilled coffee flooded the table; Lexa moved her leg a split second before a butter knife landed on the seat, the rest of the utensils winding up in their laps or on the floor. Anya groaned, rubbing her hands up and down her shin, a clear dirt and grease covered boot print on her jeans. Raven leaned back in the booth, sipping from the only cup of coffee that happened to not be on the table.

“Got a cramp there, Cheekbones?”

Clarke and Lexa glanced at each other; Lincoln and Octavia might have been the least of their problems.


	4. Dinosaurland, Virginia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates on this might slow down, but I'll aim to get at least two up each week between episodes. Many thanks to those stopping in for a read and sticking around to see where this goes.

Managing to get everyone back in the car proved more difficult that finding out where the hell Lincoln and Octavia ran off too. Xena, as Raven insisted everyone refer to the car as, didn’t offer much in terms of trunk space. Clarke and Raven’s bags took up most of the space behind the seat, while Raven’s seemingly endless stashes of junk cluttered every inch of the floor. Lexa spotted three toolboxes like the one she carried to check out the Jeep, torn up manuals for vehicles of every make and model except the one they were currently in, and enough various screws and bolts to rebuild an entire building. Raven shifted things around as best as she could to pile everyone’s bags in one spot. She assured Anya that the bags wouldn’t topple over into the backseat where she and Lexa sat, so long as she didn’t “accidentally” brake too hard.

The group trailed behind Lincoln and Octavia by a few hours; their only hope of catching up relied on the pair making a few lengthy stops along the way. By the time Raven drove them over the border between Maryland and Virginia, Lincoln and Octavia popped up on the map near Lexington, over two and a half hours away. Clarke sat in the front seat with Raven, an actual map propped up on the dash. Each time Lexa or Anya checked where Lincoln was, she marked it on the map with a small X and traced a line back to the last point.

“Lincoln charged something at a brewery out there.” Anya announced as she showed Lexa the screen with his account information pulled up.

“Jesus, don’t they get enough of that beer brewing crap in those classes?” Raven grumbled.

“How do you know about Lincoln taking those?” Lexa leaned between Clarke and Raven’s seats, her forearms perched behind their headrests. For one, it kept the handle of Anya’s suitcase from digging in the back of her neck, and if she was stuck in the car for who knows how long, an attempt at making some kind of relevant conversation wouldn’t kill her, at least she hoped.

Clarke turned in her seat to face Lexa, her back leaned against the door. She shoved the map half on the dashboard.

“Lincoln tells us about them, or Octavia does when she goes with him,” Lexa furrowed her brow; Lincoln never talked about his classes. The only thing Lexa knew about them was they were every Friday at some bar with a shamrock on the sign and probably some stereotypical Irish name like O’Flannigans; she only knew that much because she gave Lincoln a ride to the last one. The one he needed a ride to because he mentioned something about his Jeep running strange and Anya being there in the living room with them when he brought it up. Of course she and Anya forgot; the one time Lincoln told them something, it went over both of their heads. “I guess those classes pay off. He brought a few bottles of some wheat beer they brewed a couple weeks ago and they weren’t half bad. Better than the cheap stuff Raven usually buys.”

“Don’t insult my beer choices, Griffin. You know I’m more of a whiskey girl.” Raven replied.

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that hasn’t offended me.” Anya quipped from the backseat. Raven flicked her eyes towards Anya in the rear view mirror, narrowing them as she waited for another backhanded compliment.

“Clearly Lincoln prefers you to us.” Lexa said.

“Who wouldn’t?” Clarke smacked Raven in the arm for that one. Lincoln didn’t entirely shut his sisters out; he surprised them with take out for dinner sometimes or would bring Anya giant plastic containers of pretzels if he saw them in the store. They weren’t much of a drinking family anyways. Lincoln mostly signed up for the class because it sounded interesting and fit his schedule, not because any of them were passionate about drinking something that might taste worse than a warm Bud Light.

Sharing beer with Clarke, Raven, and Octavia wasn’t the thing that mattered; Lincoln sitting in their apartment talking to him about his day, being included when Octavia told her roommates a story, that part mattered. Octavia hadn’t even seen the inside of their apartment, at least not when Lexa or Anya was there to witness it. Instead of sitting at home with his family, he turned to strangers: a girl he’d been talking about for a few months, two roommates he saw who knows how often, maybe even more of their circle of friends that Lexa didn’t even know existed.

Whatever moments of bonding they had didn’t build any trust in Lincoln. If they did, they wouldn’t have worried about Octavia going with him; they would have let the situation play out and know their friend was safe in his hands. Lexa wondered who they trusted less: Octavia to make a decision, or Lincoln to accompany her through it.

Anya pushed Lexa’s shoulder and forced her out from between the seats. She propped her elbow on Raven’s seat, leaning her head on her hand.

“Well, if you two live with this Octagon-“

“Octavia.” Clarke corrected Anya, who rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. So, who is she? Lincoln never gave us the honor of meeting her before they ran off together.”

“Wait, you live together, and you never met Octavia?” Clarke asked. Lexa shook her head in response. Octavia might have thought twice about leaving with no warning if she met either of Lincoln’s sisters. “Octavia mentioned that he had sisters, but she thought you guys lived somewhere else.”

“Then who did she think he lived with?” Lexa asked. Even if she had never seen more than the outside of Lincoln’s apartment, his living situation had to come up. Someone doesn’t just forget to mention they have roommates, roommates they’re blood related to and should probably be introduced to at some point. How did Lincoln even bring up Lexa and Anya without throwing that information in there? At least Lexa and Anya were in the dark about the entire existence of his girlfriend; that saved them from being criticized for not knowing a single thing about her.

Clarke and Raven turned to each other, both shrugging. Lexa turned the tables on them. If they couldn’t get basic information from Octavia, they could doubt her when she tried to paint Lincoln as the enemy, the mastermind behind their runaway stunt. Let the war begin between the three of them and slip away with Lincoln before anyone can remember that any of the Woods held even the slightest amount of responsibility.

“Just because she’s our best friend doesn’t mean we know everything about-“

“Clarke, holy shit, do you see this?” Raven cut Clarke’s scrambled excuse off. She pointed off the side of the road. A faded billboard boasted a painted T-Rex, the word “Dinosaurland” printed below; seeing it felt like being thrown back into the sixties and seeing an sign for Disneyland, the same font and everything.

“Raven,” Clarke warned. Raven shifted lanes on the highway as they approached an exit ramp. She raised an eyebrow at Clarke as she flipped her turn signal on. “No, Raven, we’re already too far behind.”

 

Seven miles down a road with more rusted pick-up trucks abandoned on plots of farm land than actual houses, and Raven stepped out of the car, grinning at the group following behind her. Anya opted to stay in the car; Raven dragged her out of the backseat and threatened to handcuff her to Clarke if she didn’t start walking. Lexa bit back a laugh as Clarke and Anya shared equally terrified look; Clarke at the thought of being stuck to Anya, Anya at the realization that Raven noticed her slip her pair of handcuffs from her bag to her back pocket while Raven drove.

“I’m seriously considering leaving her here and coming back once I have Octavia.” Clarke spoke to herself as they followed Raven towards the giant dinosaur mouth surrounding the door of the entrance.

“It can’t be that bad.” Lexa replied. Even she had to admit, Raven had the right idea. Was it a risk wasting time wandering around looking at giant dinosaur statues while Octavia and Lincoln could slip farther away? Most likely. But they tracked the pair down to a brewery; they’d be smart enough to sit around for a while if they started drinking, Lexa hoped. The park looked like it hadn’t been painted in a good thirty years and the Sabretooth tiger posed near the huge Dinosaurland sign on the top of a hill had its tail broken off; the place nailed the cheesy roadside attraction to a tee.

“You’re encouraging this?”

“From a strategic point, yes,” Clarke waited for an explanation. “We’re all exhausted already. Especially you and Raven, I can see it. And since Raven refuses to let anyone else drive, even you, it’s best to give her a break and not piss her off.”

“You mean more than Anya already has?” Clarke replied. Lexa nodded. Anya passed them, sitting on a bench outside of the entrance.

“You all are a bunch of children.” Anya replied and she plopped her pair of aviators on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest, prepared to spend the entire time there soiling the fun of anyone who passed by.

“You’re a liar, Lexa,” Clarke said as they entered the building. Raven handed them each a ticket into the park. “You wanted to come see the dinosaurs too, didn’t you?” Lexa rolled her eyes, neither denying nor confirming Clarke’s assumption. Showing excitement over anything besides finding Lincoln threatened the task at hand, no matter how warranted it was. She still didn’t trust Clarke or Raven enough to let them think of the whole thing as anything less than a mission.

Clarke and Lexa trailed behind Raven as she followed the gravel path through the park. She stopped at half of the statues to take selfies with them. Clarke joined Raven in a few of them, sending them to Octavia as they walked through the park. None of the pictures earned a response from their friend. A few of the pictures caught Lexa in the background, facing the other direction to look at something on the other side of the path. No way would she be willingly caught in the picture. Throwing Lexa between Clarke and Raven might have terrified Lincoln into calling her or Anya and ended the trip, an easy victory for everyone. But the near hundred unanswered calls and texts between everyone combined made the effort seem useless.

As they circled the back half of the park, Raven’s eyes grew wide. She shoved her phone in Clarke’s hand and jogged towards a velociraptor statue standing a few feet taller than her.

“Griffin, come help me up.” She whispered out of earshot of the family taking pictures at the stegosaurus nearby. Her arms wrapped around the velociraptor’s neck, one foot already planted in the crook of its arms.

“What are you doing?” Clarke hissed.

“Accomplishing my childhood dream of riding a velociraptor,” Raven tried to haul herself on the velociraptor’s back, but couldn’t swing her other leg over it. “Hurry up!”

Lexa watched as the pair bickered back and forth. Clarke’s attempt to tug Raven’s leg from the arm led to a kick in the stomach with her free leg. Doubled over with the wind knocked out of her, Clarke turned to Lexa for help. Lexa took a step towards Raven, avoiding another swipe with her free leg. She crossed to the other side of the dinosaur, out of reach of Raven’s leg. Clasped around the neck of the velociraptor, Raven left her hands exposed. Lexa struck, pulling at Raven’s palms to separate her hands; if she dropped off the statue, Lexa hoped Clarke would catch her. Raven’s hands held like a vice. They wrestled for a few seconds, Lexa dropping back to catch her breath.

“Years of trying not to drop expensive tools into even more expensive car parts has perfected my grip,” Raven bragged. “Look, Commander, since you worked out a deal with my friend over here so well, I’ll make one of my own. I’ll get down if you let Clarke take a picture of you and me laying in the mouth of the knock off Jaws near the front.”

A blank stare washed over Lexa’s face. She had to be joking. Lexa turned to Clarke; a silent “please” crossed over her lips. Why did she care if they got caught? She could walk away right now and join Anya in the front, both of them pretending they don’t know either woman when whatever makeshift security team drags Raven off the statue and boots her and Clarke from the park. But Raven had the keys; without her or Clarke, they’d be stranded in the backwoods of Virginia.

“Fine.”

Raven slipped off the statue, brushing past Lexa and Clarke towards the front of the park like nothing happened. At the shark, Raven crawled in legs first, propped up on her elbows. She patted the ground next to her, inviting Lexa in. Lexa crawled next to Raven; first thing she planned for her return home was a drive to the nearest clinic for a tetanus shop. Whatever bugs resided in the back of the massive shark needed to stay there until Clarke took the damn picture, something she seemed all too keen to take her sweet time doing.

“No half-assing this picture either,” Raven added as Clarke held both her and Raven’s phones in front of her. “Full theatrics, real looks of horror and flailing.”

Waves of secondhand embarrassment washed over Lexa as Raven pulled a full range of facial expressions only seen in bad slasher movies. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Raven rolled onto her back, head tilted back in a silent scream as the thrashed next to Lexa, one hand stretched out towards Clarke, the other pushing at the shark’s jaw. Snaps from the camera filled the silence between Raven’s scrapping against the dirt; by the time she stilled, Lexa could hardly catch her breath from the dust Raven kicked up and the laughs she tried to stifle. The last thing she needed was Clarke holding any evidence that made it look like Lexa viewed the stunt as anything but a negotiation for peace.

Clarke knelt next to them, handing Raven her phone back. She scrolled through the series of pictures before pulling herself out of the shark. Lexa followed, both of them swiping dust off their stomachs and legs.

“Well, I’m willing to overlook the fact that you put absolutely no effort into making this look like the fight of our lives,” Raven said as they headed back to the gift shop attached to the entrance. “But the face you made while losing your shit laughing is acceptable as well.”

Inside the shop, they headed down separate aisles; Raven searched for a bathroom, Clarke scanned a wall of T-Shirts, and Lexa searched the ceramic dinosaur figures scattered along the shelves. A bright orange T-Rex caught her eye first, the smaller scaled version of the velociraptor sitting next to it; both wound up in Lexa’s hand. Maybe they could start a collection of souvenirs for Lincoln and Octavia to remember the hell they put everyone through, a constant reminder of the insanity they experienced trying to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid. Put everything together in a nice gift basket with a loving note from everyone, thanking the couple for driving them all up the walls by running off. Clarke seemed to share Lexa’s thoughts, rounding the corner and holding up two pint glasses, the park name etched on the front.

“For the next time Lincoln brings over one of his brews.” Clarke suggested.

“A guilt trip every time they drink.”

“And those are part of the strategy too, right?” Clarke nodded at the figures in Lexa’s hand. Lexa’s cheeks flushed as Clarke called her bluff. She pushed past Clarke to pay at the register. By the time the cashier handed Lexa her change, Raven rejoined Clarke near the shirts; Lexa exited the gift shop, dropping down on the bench next to Anya.

“Good news,” Anya held her phone out to Lexa while she stared straight ahead at the parking lot. “They’re back on the road again.” Sure enough, the pin shifted west again. Three hours separated the two travelling parties. Sympathy for the group’s well being burned them; trying to give everyone a chance to rest did nothing but ruin the slight progress they made in catching up.


	5. Speedway Inn, Tennessee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a day, because why not?

Ten hours passed before Lincoln and Octavia stopped again. Ten grueling hours of trying to stop Clarke and Raven from pulling over for every cheesy roadside attraction that a billboard advertised. Every attempt cost the group more time; Lexa and Raven argued for twenty minutes, parked on the shoulder of the highway, all because Lexa reached over Raven’s seat and hijacked the steering wheel, shifting them away from the lane leading to the side road hosting a replica of Stonehenge made of foam blocks. By the time Raven surrendered the driver’s seat to Clarke, they trailed Lincoln and Octavia by five hours.

“I think they stopped.” Anya said, still tracking Lincoln as the sun set; he hadn’t moved in an hour, the pin point sitting near the border of Tennessee. Even if they settled down for the day, the group still had to drive well into the night to catch up.

Raven took over the role of navigator, abandoning Clarke’s ancient technique of drawing on a physical map. For the first time, she worked with Anya with limited bickering; Anya would zoom in on Lincoln’s location as much as she could while Raven searched the surrounding area on Google Maps for anything that might have drawn Lincoln or Octavia’s attention.

“You’re kidding me,” Raven said, clicking around the newest area Anya directed her to. “They’re camping in the freaking mountains.”

“Hope you like hiking.” Anya laughed.

“We are not going up into the mountains at night to look for them.” Lexa said. Not only would it be stupid to even attempt to follow a trail up to a campsite in pitch dark, it would be a waste of time knowing Lincoln, he and Octavia probably said “Screw the trail!” and hiked up their own path. Lincoln got lost on so many Boy Scout trips doing the same thing as a kid, always claiming the best sites to bunker down for the night were the ones that hadn’t been trampled on by hundreds of other tourists over the years.

“So what? You want us to wait at the foot of the mountain for them?” Anya sounded disappointed by Lexa’s lack of support.

“Yes.” They could sleep in the car for all Lexa cared. If it meant Lincoln and Octavia didn’t get another head start on them, she would sleep on the hood of Octavia’s car parked wherever they left it.

“Don’t be stupid,” Clarke said, passing an eighteen wheeler in the lane next to them. “There’s probably a hotel nearby. We’ll stay there, wake up early, and head down towards the mountain in the morning.”

“Leave the hotel to me.” Raven replied.

Leaving the hotel to Raven nearly topped every other horrible decision Lexa went along with on the trip. The Speedway Inn looked like the breeding place of murders and possible meth labs. One of the rooms upstairs had the door roped off with police caution tape and a broken window boarded up. The checkered flag on the sign above the office fit the occasion; this was the end of the line for them, being killed in a shady motel on the outskirts of Tennessee, their bodies winding up dumped in the woods for the animals to scavenge upon.

“Was the Bates Motel fully booked?” Anya said, glancing out the window. “I’ve busted into drug dens cleaner than this.”

“Oh, did you want me to make a reservation at the Ritz down the street? My bad.” Raven climbed out of the car first, Clarke close behind. They popped open the trunk, pulling everyone’s bags out.

“Here,” Anya reached into her boot and pulled out a small switchblade, handing it to Lexa. She dug through one of Raven’s tool boxes, taking one of the many wrenches in her hand. “Just in case.”

Anya led the group towards the front office. She stopped outside the door and pointed at Clarke and Lexa.

“You two stay here with the bags,” She clapped Raven on the shoulder. “We’ll get us checked in.” The pair entered the office, their conversation with the balding man behind the counter muffled through the door.

“Did she give you a knife?” Clarke caught the handle of the switchblade sticking out of Lexa’s front pocket.

“Barely. This is nothing compared to the hunting knife I usually carry.” Unlike Anya who preferred keeping weapons in direct contact with her skin, Lexa carried hers in more subtle places; side pockets of her back pack, the glove compartment in her car, occasionally in her boot if she has no other choice.

Muffled yelling seeped through the door as Anya pounded her fist on the office counter. The man behind the desk turned as red as Raven’s jacket, the two locked in a heated argument. Raven placed a hand on Anya’s shoulder, trying to draw her attention away from the screaming employee.

“Please tell me she doesn’t have a concealed gun on her.” Clarke said as she and Lexa watched Anya continue to argue. Raven threw her hands in the air and stepped away from the counter, sitting in a chair next to the counter.

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure.”

The door slammed open, Anya storming out with Raven close behind. Anya slowly exhaled while Raven pried the wrench from her hand.

“Good news, she didn’t kill the guy. Bad news, he only has one room left for the night,” Raven said, holding up a single key card, the room number thirty three printed on the front. Raven led them towards the far end of the hotel.

Upstairs, the group waited as Raven unlocked the room. After hours of being crammed in the car, all Lexa wanted was a hot shower and a chance to sleep for more than five minutes without being woken up by Clarke or Anya calling “Slug bug!” and whaling her in the arm.

The door opened, the overwhelming stench of mothballs slapping them all in the face. Lexa coughed and stepped into the room, fumbling for the light switch against the wall. The wall lamp in the small entryway flicked on. The bathroom sat to the left of the door; Lexa could see everything from the corner of the shower to the sink, mostly due to the fact that the actual door was missing from the hinges. She looked at the room itself. A cushioned chair sat in the far corner, a small table and a surprisingly matching wooden chair across from it. The TV sat on a wide dresser pressed against one wall of the room, the mini fridge perched on the other end of the dresser.

“We get dibs.” Clarke and Lexa called at the same time as they focused on the single full sized bed in the room.

“The only reason we’re even close to finding them is because we drove here.” Clarke pushed past Lexa, squaring off with her face to face in the small hallway.

“And the only reason we’re even close to finding them is because we told you where to go.” The two stared each other down, more heated than their first meeting on the side of the road that morning. This was more personal; Lexa’s sanity rode on being able to sleep on a bed for the night, especially if they still had another ten hour drive back home the next day once Lincoln and Octavia were secured. She didn’t even want to imagine that part; which would be worse, driving back with the couple that might hate them for interrupting their plans, or staying with Clarke and Raven and their stupid tourist attraction stops?

“There’s only one way to settle this.” Clarke held her fist in front of her stomach. Lexa mirrored her, keeping eye contact.

“So it seems.”

 

“I hate you, Lexa,” Anya said as she shifted in the seat of the cushioned chair. She threw one of the extra hotel pillows at Lexa, lying on the floor between the chair and the table. “Why would you throw paper first?”

Lexa caught the pillow, placing it at the top of the pile of sheets she folded as a makeshift bed. She could practically feel the years of filth seeping through them from the carpet; she’d never be clean enough to wash the crawling feeling off of her skin. She propped herself up on her elbows, the blanket on top of her slipping down towards her waist. Everyone changed into different degrees of pajamas; Anya ditched the jeans and boots for a pair of basketball shorts, also trading the tank top that still had patches of blood from her skirmish with Clarke on it for one of her old police training t-shirts. Lexa pulled a pair of sweats from her bag and changed out of her tank top and into a loose gym shirt, the sides and sleeves cut from the seam along her shoulders nearly down to the bottom hem of the shit.

“Hey, don’t blame her!” Raven yelled from the bathroom, perfectly heard over the running water of her shower because of the still missing door; the front desk employee Anya nearly assaulted only offered a shrug when Lexa went down to request extra sheets and pillows and inform him about the door. For a thirty dollar room, she didn’t know what she expected. The water shut off and Raven stepped out of the doorway, towel wrapped around her body. “Clarke can’t help her love for playing scissors.”

“Raven!” Clarke, once sitting proudly on top of the bed she and Raven won claim over for the night, flushed red at Raven’s remark. She grabbed the first thing in arm’s reach, a pack of Poptarts she grabbed earlier from the vending machine on the lower level of the motel, and hurled them at Raven. She missed completely, the plastic package smacking the front door while Raven cackled. “Just ignore her.” Clarke said, pulling the hood of her UDC sweatshirt over her head in embarrassment.

“Surprised that isn’t your default too, Lex.” Anya smirked, catching on to Raven’s innuendo. Leave it to Anya to drag her into the game of cheap jokes too.

Clarke peeked her head out from under her hood and looked towards Lexa. Lexa became suddenly aware of how exposed her shirt left her; from where Clarke sat, she could see the entirety of the tribal tattoo that stretched up Lexa’s side, minus the few inches covered by her sports bra. No doubt she had already noticed the tattoo wrapping around Lexa’s bicep, having spent so much time during the fight with Lexa’s arm shoved by her face. But Lexa noticed Clarke lean to the side, trying to angle herself better to see the tattoo running down Lexa’s spine, still mostly covered by her shirt.

Raven stopped laughing and kept glancing between the two equally embarrassed girls; Clarke took notice and distracted herself with her phone in her lap, avoiding making eye contact with anyone in the room. Lexa burrowed under the blanket covering her makeshift bed; whoever’s stare, either Clarke or Raven’s, burned into her back through the blanket.

Lexa hid under the blanket for half an hour. She wasn’t ashamed of Anya throwing her out like that. She didn’t care that Clarke and Raven knew she was gay, even though she preferred to keep the personal details down to a minimum in the few conversations they had during the drive. Clarke’s blatant staring at her while she lay on the ground didn’t bother her either; she was used to being gawked at whenever she wore anything that showed her skin. What sent her hiding was that Clarke had done it; Clarke, who kept daring to challenge Lexa on the decisions they made, who could slip between egging Lexa on to join her in her ridiculous stunts or side with Lexa as one of the only voices of reason in the group. Lexa’s intimidation attempts failed on Clarke; that scared her more than the Clarke noticeably finding her attractive.

Lexa fell asleep in her hiding spot, only waking when the heat building under the blanket started suffocating her. Her head peeked out as she surveyed the dark room; Anya snored as she slept, curled up in the corner of her chair under a mountain of blankets, Raven lay with an arm and leg hanging off the edge of the bed, the blanket being stolen off of her an inch at a time by Clarke, curled up with her back towards Raven. For the first time since she got dragged out of bed that morning, she appreciated the near silence, minus what sounded like a headboard banging against the wall shared with the room on their left. She fumbled for her phone, plugged into the charger behind her; through half closed eyes, she checked that her alarm was set, and drifted back to sleep.

 

Lexa’s alarm, she later discovered had not been set; what she thought had been the alarm symbol on her lock screen turned out to be the airplane mode symbol. She’d switched the phone into it a few miles away from the hotel, tired of the endless notifications of the phone searching for a nearby network. Judging by the room full of people sleeping just as soundly as she had, nobody else bothered setting an alarm either. Lexa checked her phone: five ‘til ten.

“Shit.” She groaned. Hopefully they decided to take their sweet time hiking back down the mountain and got sidetracked by the waterfalls Raven noticed on the map nearby. Lexa kicked at Anya in the chair, hitting her in the same leg Raven kicked the morning before. Anya snorted herself awake, looking around the room in confusion.

“Oh god, they’re still here.” She caught sight of Clarke and Raven on the bed, Raven being spooned by Clarke with the blanket and sheets thrown on floor.

“Check where Lincoln is.” Lexa demanded, slipping out of her makeshift bed and crossing to the window. She flung the curtains open, the room flooding with sunlight. Raven hissed and grabbed one of Clarke’s hands, shielding her eyes from the light with it as Lexa turned around.

“Turn the light off,” Clarke mumbled, her face buried in Raven’s messy ponytail. “Five more minutes.” Lexa’s heart skipped. No, the last thing she needed was any more intrusive thoughts about Clarke. They were partners on a mission that would never see each other again, if things worked out to plan. Unless Lincoln and Octavia’s relationship survived the manhunt and resulted in Anya and Lexa being invited to gatherings with Clarke and Raven; that might not be the worst thing that could happen.

“Damn it!” Anya screamed. Clarke and Raven jumped straight up in bed. “They’re near Nashville.” They missed their window; the two must have started their hike back at sunrise and headed back out on the road. If they had a hard enough time tracking them down to a small town with nothing but campsites to attract people, how would they find them in a city chock full of different places to hide?

“We need to go, now.” Clarke urged as she crawled out of bed, throwing on a pair of jeans and leaving her sweatshirt on. Raven followed suit, pulling the Dinosaurland shirt she bought over her undershirt. She grabbed a pair of jeans and headed towards the bathroom to change out of her sweats. Anya jumped up first, carrying her bag behind her.

“Oh no,” She pushed Raven out of the way, nearly bouncing her off the wall. “I haven’t showered in two days. Move.”

“Two days? No wonder Xena’s interior reeks.” Raven slipped into the doorway, blocking it with her entire body. Anya pulled at her back. Raven raised her arms over her head, gripping each side of the door frame. Since Anya missed the velociraptor incident, she struggled to pry Raven’s hands off.

“Do you want a repeat of yesterday?” Anya growled, still fighting a losing battle.

“What, Clarke kicking your ass? Yeah, I actually do.”

“Do not drag me back into this,” Clarke yelled as she repacked her and Raven’s bags. She looked towards Lexa, still standing near the window. “Don’t you need the shower too?”

“I’m not about to get between them again.” Lexa would pay the least suspicious looking occupant in a nearby room to let her use their shower before she tried to break apart another fight of Anya’s. Lexa turned her back to Clarke, sweeping her hair to the side and pulling the collar of her shirt down, three long red scratches on the surface of her skin from the morning before. Clarke sucked in her breath, hopefully at the sight of her injury and not the glimpse of Lexa’s tattoo, the conversation from last night still fresh in her mind. She faced Clarke again and held out her arm, a blossoming bruise in the middle of her forearm as well.

“Suck it up, Princess, you’re not getting in here!” Anya wrapped her arms around Raven’s waist, throwing her full body weight backwards as she tried to pull Raven away from the doorway. How can she take down two hundred fifty pound guys with weapons while on duty, but couldn’t pull a woman shorter than her out of the way? Five minutes passed, Clarke and Lexa watching the two locked in their struggle, neither making any progress.

Raven reared her head back, the top of her head colliding with Anya’s forehead. Both dropped to the floor, palms clutched to their heads while they groaned in pain. Lexa stepped over the mangled bodies, her own change of clothes in hand, and started the shower; Anya would be lucky if she saved any hot water for her when she regained consciousness.


	6. Sevierville, Tennessee

They were convinced they could make up the time they lost. All they needed was to make one stop at a gas station, and they would have been right back on Octavia and Lincoln’s trail, the pair heading down to Memphis. Clarke drove like a madwoman; Lexa started regretting sitting in the front seat with her as she watched the needle on the speedometer pushed towards eighty. Anya’s overprotective ways should have kicked in, prompting her to run a background check on Clarke and find out how many times she’d been pulled over for driving like this through DC; but Anya sat quiet in the backseat, passing an ice pack between she and Raven, still dazed from their bathroom throw down.

“Aw, look how cute,” Lexa said, watching the pair in the backseat. Raven leaned her head on Anya’s shoulder, the ice pack sandwiched between them. The top of Raven’s head pushed Anya’s sunglasses up the side of her face. “You would never guess they’ve been trying to kill each other for two days.”

Compared to the day before, they looked like a group of friends that actually planned a multi-state road trip; Clarke sang along to old rock songs playing over the only radio station they picked up so far from the city, Lexa took the chance to watch the land on the side of the road change from small bunches of farms to trees so dense she couldn’t see more than ten feet into them, while Anya and Raven unconsciously reached a peace treaty. Lexa turned in her seat and snapped a picture; if Raven ever got any ideas about that shark picture, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull this one up. Same went for Anya.

“I’m tempted to leave them like that,” Clarke handed her phone to Lexa to take a picture as well. Anya shifted, her hand lifting and cradling Raven’s face, pulling them closer together. If they left them there long enough, who knows how they might end up? “But we should probably keep them awake. They might have concussions.”

“Fine by me.” Lexa reached back and slapped Anya’s knee. She jumped awake, Raven’s head not moving from her shoulder, even as she opened her eyes and squinted at the light flooding through the windows. They looked at each other for a second before flying apart, scooting across the seat until they pressed into the opposite doors, refusing to look anywhere but out the windows.

“Not the first time you’ve dealt with Raven getting knocked around in a fight?”

“You have no idea,” Clarke replied. “I’m pretty sure every bar and club I’ve been thrown out of was because of Raven or Octavia starting something and me getting involved.”

They lead two entirely different lives, Lexa learned over the trip. While Clarke and her friends leaned towards nights out on the town, Lexa settled in for the night to savor the rare moments she has to stop and breathe after hectic days. She could spend the whole summer holed up like a hermit, at least when she wasn’t doubling up on summer sessions to try to graduate sooner. Anya usually dragged her out, insisted Lexa would slowly become one with the living room sofa if she didn’t get up. Even though she protested, usually when Anya interrupted her in the middle of a season on Netflix, Lexa liked going out with Anya, Gustus, and their handful of friends. The best nights ended up with Lincoln by her side, the two usually making sure Anya’s squad didn’t get too rowdy and wind up in their own police station. No coincidence that Clarke seemed to play the same role in her group, her and Lexa being the closest things to voices of reason on the trip so far.

“I’m sure going out with them hasn’t gotten you tased.”

“That was one time, and you said I could do it.” Anya defended herself. What a surprise, Anya trying to deny that she’s ever used her siblings as guinea pigs more than a couple of times.

“Why would I ever agree to getting tased?”

“Not that I’m surprised that there’s another story of your unprovoked violence,” Raven said, turning to look at Anya across the backseat. “But I really need context as to why you thought it was okay to tase your own sister.”

“I have a Taser when I’m on patrol. But I wanted one to keep in the apartment, because I am such-“ Anya leaned over the passenger seat, throwing her arm around Lexa and putting her in a light headlock. “-a loving sister who would do anything to keep her baby siblings safe in their own home.”

“Clarke, pull over, she’s making me sick.” Lexa pulled Anya’s arm off and shoved her backwards. Anya smacked the back of her head before lounging across the back seat, propping her feet in Raven’s lap. Surprisingly, Raven let her be.

“Well, I figured before Lex goes and tases the UPS guy in the balls when he knocks on the door, I should teach her and Lincoln how to use it.”

“Notice how she assumed I would be the one to tase and innocent person.”

“Lincoln’s calm, you’re the jumpiest person I’ve ever seen. You freaked out that time the wind knocked a leaf into your face when we were standing on the balcony. I thought you got shot next to me with how loud you started screaming.”

Clarke and Raven cracked up; Lexa, who threw herself in the middle of a brawl to protect her sister, got into a car with complete strangers and drove across a couple state lines, and slept through the night in a motel where at least one body had probably been found floating in the pool, was no braver than a squirrel. Clarke wiped the tears from her eyes as she looked at Lexa, her face locked in a permanent frown.

“So I held the Woods Family Taser Training in the living room and told them I’d do for them what my sergeant did for me when I got trained in the academy. And they agreed. I read off the manual, tell them how it works, the whole thing. Then I tell Linc to grab Lexa and hold her arms, and she freaks out.”

Who wouldn’t freak out? One second they were sitting on the couch, Anya holding the pistol shaped Taser, telling them where to aim, the next Lincoln’s holding her arms to his chest, the two of them standing near the hallway with her back towards Anya.

“No warning, nothing. Just two metal prongs flying into my back and shocking the hell out of me. I still have the scars from when you pulled them out.”

“Yeah, I got points deducted for doing that wrong during training.” Lexa rubbed at the spot near her left shoulder, remembering the days of random muscle spasms she dealt with after the training session. Nearly five years later, Lincoln had yet to be tased; she’s still convinced it was a long thought out prank the two of them planned, just to see what happened.

The car filled with laughter, Clarke throwing her head back as she tried to keep the car straight. Raven offering Anya a high five in the back seat. As much as the experience left Lexa scarred, both mentally and physically, it still held a spot as one of her favorite stories to tell with Anya. The energy carried them over for the next couple of miles, dying down occasionally only for Anya to mock the face Lexa made when the first jolt hit her, or how Lincoln didn’t notice she kept using the laser sight on the gun during the lecture part of the training to trace outlines of different shapes on his shirt; Raven called out Anya’s vague phrasing, getting her to admit that she was in fact drawing dicks on Lincoln for twenty minutes.

“It could be worse,” Raven piped up from the backseat. “Clarke shoved my head into the living room wall within three hours of us moving in.”

“Wow,” Anya replied flatly, holding out her still bandaged arm. “You mean the two of you have violent tendencies? I’m shocked. I’m sure Octopus was involved in this whole incident as well.”

“Octavia,” Clarke reminded her again. “And she was…slightly involved.”

“Define slightly.” Lexa waited for Clarke’s answer. Clarke sighed, tilting her head back against the seat’s headrest. Either Clarke highly regretted the events she was about to describe, or knew that Lexa and Anya would completely judge her for it and possibly lose consciousness laughing at how ridiculous of a story it was.

“We spent the whole day moving our stuff in,” Raven coughed, cutting Clarke off. “Okay fine, Octavia’s brother Bellamy did most of the work. So did our buddies Jasper and Monty. But only because Raven bribed them with food.”

“In our defense, we got thrown into an apartment on the third floor the weekend the elevators were busted,” Raven added. “The boys would do anything for a pizza.”

“Me and Raven are hanging out in the kitchen packing up leftovers, and Octavia kicks the door in and screams ‘We’re moved in, bitches!’ holding two bottles of tequila in her hands. I don’t even know where she got them because she hadn’t turned twenty one yet, but I figured the less I knew, the better.” That’s who Lincoln ran off with? Just when Lexa started to ease up on worrying about Lincoln, she realized he was driving around with a potential partying maniac. Nothing Clarke followed up with would make her worry any less about Lincoln’s safety.

“We drank a little,” Raven coughed again. “Okay, a lot. And I forgot how to walk for a few hours.”

“The only way I could get Clarke back into her room was if I gave her a piggy back ride down the hallway,” Clarke groaned as Raven took over the story. “So she runs at me before I could squat down, and she tackles me. Full on linebacker status. And my head goes into the wall right next to our hall closet.”

“So you had a hole in your apartment within hours of moving in?” Lexa asked, trying not to laugh. “Wait, what was Octavia doing during all this?”

“Drunk on the couch talking about chasing butterflies.” Raven answered. At least Lexa and Anya kept the damage to a minimum in the apartment, not leaving holes the size of each other’s heads in the middle of the hallway.

“And it’s not had. We _have_ a hole in our apartment still, almost four years later,” Lexa stared at Clarke; they didn't even bribe one of their friends to patch it? Or give their maintenance guy some kind of less drunk excuse to get it fixed? “I put a nice frame around it, called it a piece of art.”

“Yeah, even made a nice little title card for it. ‘Welcome Home’ by Clarke Griffin, Raven’s head on drywall. Fits right in with the rest of Griffin’s paintings on the wall.” Raven beamed with pride, knowing her accident was probably the highlight of their apartment décor.

“You paint, Clarke?”

“I used to,” Clarke shrugged her own answer off. “Until pre-med started sucking all my free time up.” Lexa only managed a nod before she fell silent. Her earlier judgement of Clarke sat heavy in her stomach; she may have been a party girl that accidentally rams her friend’s heads into walls, but she knew how to turn it around and make it into something worthwhile, someone who must have had at least some sense of balance in her life to tackle pre-med and still be able to keep close with her friends. Maybe Lexa could take a page out of Clarke’s book once her grad school classes picked up again; letting lose with Clarke and Raven hadn’t killed her yet, even with Anya in tow. At this rate, Octavia and Lincoln running off might have been the thing Lexa needed the most.

Miles stretched on in near silence; the radio finally cut out, static humming for a few seconds before Clarke switched the radio off. The lack of Anya and Raven’s bickering left the two women in the front seat constantly turning around or checking the rear view mirror to make sure they hadn’t silently taken each other out; Anya still leaned against the car door with her feet on Raven, flipping through one of the repair manuals scattered along the floor while Raven drummer her fingers her leg, watching the cars pass on the opposite side of the road.

 

“I know we said no stops,” Anya spoke after half an hour. “But considering it’s been almost two hours since the last incident between me and this one,” She pointed at Raven, who shrugged in agreement. Had they really gone that long without even so much as making a face at the other? “I’d like to request that we make a stop.”

“It’s not prison, Anya, you don’t get out for good behavior.” Lexa replied. Their minimal distractions and Clarke’s driving left them at a good pace. They still had the entire afternoon to catch up to the couple, as long and Lincoln and Octavia made another lengthy stop or two of their own.

“It won’t take long,” Anya pleaded. “Ten minutes, top.”

“What’s it for?” Clarke asked. Anya sighed and mumbled her answer. Clarke turned to Lexa, neither of them catching the answer. It couldn’t be worse than Raven’s attempt to stop at a storage place with a bunch of old signs from stores and restaurants. “Say that again?”

Anya mumbled again. Lexa caught something about a statue. Anya did miss out on the entire adventure of beat up dinosaur statues; as long as Raven didn’t attempt to climb whatever this one was, it might not be such a bad idea, no matter how ashamed of it Anya was. Lexa nodded at Clarke to go ahead and follow the directions Anya gave her.

 

“Park right here.” Anya pointed at a space in front of a red brick courthouse. A thin path cut through the green lawn in front of it, leading to a statue Lexa couldn’t make out; definitely a person sitting on a rock, holding something in their arms. Raven leaned forward in her seat, trying to get a glimpse of the statue through the window next to Anya.

“That is not what I think it is,” Raven pressed her head into the back of Clarke’s seat and laughed. Clarke might have been right about the concussion thing; Raven gasped for breath between laughs, slapping her hand against the seat. “This is the dumbest thing I have ever seen in my life.”

“Did I mock you for stopping to look at dinosaurs?” Anya questioned.

“Yes!” Everyone in the car yelled simultaneously.

“Anya, what the hell did you make us stop for?” Lexa asked, still unable to see the statue. How did Raven even know what it was. She looked at Anya in the backseat; Anya’s face flushed as she watched Raven double over laughing, her forehead nearly pressed against Anya’s ankles.

“Just stay in the car,” Anya swung her feet off of Raven’s legs and threw her door open. “I just need one picture and I’ll be back.”

Anya took one step onto the sidewalk and stumbled, landing face first in the grass. Lexa jumped out of the car to help her. Raven’s laughter grew as Anya rolled onto her back, noticing the knot holding the laces of her boots together. She retied her boots and stood, leaning into the backseat. Lexa grabbed her arms and pulled her back; Clarke’s arm shot in front of Raven as a temporary shield.

Lexa pulled Anya away from the car, spinning her around until they were face to face.

“Just let it go. We’re all getting along right now. Do not screw it up.”

Anya narrowed her eyes at Lexa.

“Why do you care about getting along with them?” Lexa swallowed. Because of the trip, she reminded herself. Because they need Raven and Clarke to get to Lincoln and get back home. That’s it. Not even the slightest bit because she’s actually enjoyed anything that’s happened so far. “You think I haven’t seen you making heart eyes at Blondie since last night?”

“I think you have a serious head injury. We’re this close,” Lexa held her thumb and index finger millimeters apart. “to finding Lincoln and getting home.”

Lexa looked over her shoulder; Clarke and Raven headed towards them, stopping next to the sisters. Raven held her hands up in surrender. After a second she held out her right hand to Anya.

“Truce?” Raven offered.

Lexa nudged Anya in the ribs with her elbow.

“Fine,” She took Raven’s hand in hers. “Truce. For now.”

“That’s as good as we’re going to get.” Clarke whispered as she leaned towards Lexa. Her breath caught in her through as Clarke’s arm bumped against her, the two standing impossibly close for such an open space. Anya glanced and Lexa with a smirk.

“You can’t lie to me, little sister.” Anya walked towards the statue further in the courtyard.

“What was that about?” Clarke asked, the trio following Anya. Lexa shook her head; nothing she would admit to Anya, and certainly nothing she would admit to Clarke.

As the statue grew closer, Raven started laughing again, repeating expressions of disbelief as Anya snapped a few pictures of the statue.

“Are you kidding me?” Lexa yelled as Anya handed her phone to Lexa for a picture; there they stood, staring at a towering statue of Dolly Parton holding a guitar. “We drove you out here for this?”

“This is her hometown, Lexa!” Anya replied, trying to ignore Raven still laughing off to the side. “And this is a once in a life time opportunity.”

“It’s a statue!”

“A statue of a great woman who made strides in country music. Show some respect!”

Lexa mumbled under her breath as she took the picture. Of all the ridiculous things Anya had requested over Lexa’s twenty three years of life, this one took the cake. In hindsight, dragging her out to look for Lincoln wasn’t even that strange; at least that had reason behind it.

“Group picture!” Raven yelled, grabbing Clarke and Lexa, dragging them next to Anya and the statue. They scrunched together in the frame as Lexa and Raven snapped the pictures. Anya managed a smile for the picture, even with Raven pressed into her side; Lexa caught her checking her pockets as they walked away, making sure Raven didn’t use the picture as an excuse to pickpocket her.

“Well,” Clarke slowed to walk next to Lexa, the others already climbing in the backseat. “Your brother looks like a hard ass that would beat a guy for looking at him wrong, but is basically a giant teddy bear. Your sister is a short tempered cop with an anger management problem and apparently a dedication to classic country music.” Clarke circled the front of the car, leaning on the hood before she or Lexa got back inside. “What’s your big secret, Lexa?”

Lexa’s mouth dropped open; Clarke climbed back into the driver’s seat, smiling as Lexa fumbled to open the car door. Catching a bus and leaving Anya to find Lincoln seemed like the perfect plan. At this rate, Clarke Griffin would be the death of her.


	7. Memphis, Tennessee Part 1

They survived the six hours between Sevierville and Memphis. Anya and Raven’s truce held, despite Raven’s attempts to push every button on Anya’s country loving soul; playing every Dolly Parton single from the eighties on, asking Anya how many rhinestone covered pieces of clothing she had and how often she wore them through the streets of DC, even trying to convince Clarke to turn back around and drop Anya off at Dollywood to further fulfill her lifelong dream. Anya shut every question down; Lexa made a mental note to tell Raven about the rhinestone covered denim vest that most definitely existed in a box in the back of Anya’s closet.

Their checks on Lincoln and Octavia slowed as well, most of Anya’s time on her phone being used to pull up embarrassing pictures of Lexa and Lincoln, ones Lexa really did not need Clarke or Raven knowing existed, let alone actually seeing. Why did Anya even have Lexa’s high school graduation picture on her phone? Or Lincoln’s freshman homecoming picture? Either Anya had them in case they ever went missing and she needed to litter DC with “Missing” posters or get their faces plastered all over the news, or she intentionally carried things around like that for the sake of embarrassing her younger siblings.

They swapped seats along the way. Raven took over driving while Clarke slept in the backseat. Anya offered to switch with Lexa, claiming her and Raven had some unfinished truce business to attend to. Lexa turned in her seat, staring daggers at Anya; if Raven hadn’t been so keen on watching the two of them every time they fought, she would have threatened to end her the second they stopped driving. Anya shrugged and swung her arm over the backseat, her hand hovering near Clarke’s shoulder.

Lexa distracted herself in conversation with Raven. Raven told stories about growing up with Clarke, the two knowing each other since third grade; the Griffins practically raised Raven as her mom disappeared from her life. Lexa learned Raven and Clarke roomed together for two years on campus at UDC before Raven dropped out; neither wanted to separate, leading to the apartment.

“Octavia just tagged along with us. She lived down the hall the last year we were in the dorm with some seriously sheltered chick that was always protesting something on campus,” Raven added. “O wound up sleeping in our room half the time, curled up in the three feet of space between our beds. Once she found out we were leaving, she begged to come with us. Then a week after we moved in, our friend Jasper brings his new girlfriend over, and what do you know? It’s O’s former roommate.”

Looked like irony followed Octavia where she went. She moved out to escape an obnoxious roommate, and she follows her to her new home and slides into her circle of friends. She tried running away with her boyfriend to avoid being interrogated by their friends and family, only to get tracked halfway across the country by them. At least she tried.

Raven and Lexa fell silent again, both content watching the trees bundle closer together as they drove further away from even the smallest cities. The exits off the highway came fewer and farther in between, the road dwindling down to a single lane in each direction. DC never felt this silent, always filled with traffic and people bustling down the streets. The few hours on the road, switching back and forth from miles of woods to patches of farmland, made Lexa think she could almost imagine settling out somewhere like there; a tract of land, a bright red barn built a little ways out from behind her main house, standing on the porch looking out at the open sight with someone by her side like Clarke-

Clarke, Lexa realized, had woken up and leaned between her and Raven’s seats, looking at the route Raven had mapped on her phone’s GPS. Lexa stared straight ahead; as long as Clarke couldn’t read minds, she was safe. She was probably sleep deprived, her mind going off on tangents she couldn’t control.

“You feel like switching back yet?” Clarke asked Raven, unaware of the mental crisis Lexa experienced inches away from her. Raven waved Clarke away, the woman settling in the backseat again.

“I’m fine, Clarke,” Raven assured her, patting her braced leg. Clarke nodded and curled up in the seat, tucking her head against the door. “She’s worse than her mom about it, jeez.”

“How’d it happen?” Lexa asked. Was it even okay to ask, considering they were blindly fighting each other on the side of the road nearly thirty six hours before? It felt like more time passed over the trip, especially with the new found peace that formed between everyone.

“Rugby accident back in high school,” Raven took a hard swallow. “The park our team practiced in had some concert or something the day before in the field. Whatever dip shits set up everything didn’t keep too good of an eye on their stuff, bunch of little pieces of metal from the stage left behind. I got hit running a play, wound up with a screw digging into my spine.”

Lexa winced; getting tased and hit by a car didn’t seem as bad as she imagined before. At least she walked away from the situations without any permanent damage.

“They got it out during surgery, but this,” Raven tapped at her leg again. “Nothing from the knee down. Clarke’s mom’s a doctor, so she hovers over me, making sure I’m not in pain or losing any more feeling. Clarke does it in her own way, like that right there.”

“Well, you can still hold your own in a fight.” Lexa admitted. Raven smiled, her whole demeanor shifting. She relaxed in the seat, as if she’d kept herself tightly wound around Lexa the entire time they rode up front together. She had both Woods sisters on her side now, even if it was partly because one was still sound asleep.

“You’re damn right I can.”

 

They stopped in Memphis after dark, taking a much needed break for food and gas. The group holed up in the corner booth of one of the countless barbeque places; the things popped up on every block, each one boasting the best brisket sandwiches in town.

“This tool walks up to Griffin and starts blatantly hitting on her, practically begging her to let him buy her a drink,” Raven said as they sat around telling stories of their terrible nights out. “I’m thinking we have to do something, but I’m up next for a round of pool, so I can’t do anything.”

“Let me guess, you sent Octogenarian over?” Anya asked between sips of her beer.

“Where does she come up with these?” Clarke asked Lexa while Raven rolled her eyes at Anya.

“Yes, I sent _Octavia_ over. So she goes, slaps her ass, swings her arm around her,” Raven mimicked the motion, pulling Clarke right to her side. “Grabs her face, and all but shoves her tongue down poor Griffin’s throat.”

“Longest, most uncomfortable five seconds of my life.” Clarke replied.

“They pull apart, and Octavia’s ready to tear this guy a new one. Until she looks up at him and realizes the floppy haired jackass is her brother, Bellamy.”

Lexa choked on a fry and Anya nearly spit her drink across the table, the two exploding in laughter with Raven. Clarke blushed and shook her head, burying her face in her hands until the rest of the table calmed down.

“That was the first time I ever met him,” She added once everyone started breathing again. “I swear, every time I saw him for the next two months, he had a traumatic flashback of that mental image.”

“Even better, Octavia just took off to the other side of the bar. Left Clarke there trying to explain to Bell that she had no intentions of hooking up with him or his sister.”

Clarke’s phone vibrated on top of the table, the ringtone muffled by the bluegrass music blaring over the restaurant speakers. A picture popped up on the screen, Clarke and Raven standing on either side of a smaller brunette, her arms slung over their shoulders. Lexa caught the contact name on top of the picture, able to read it even upside down: Octavia.

“Speak of the devil.” Raven said as Clarke answered the phone, putting it on speaker and lying it in the middle of the table.

“Octavia?”

“Hey Clarke, What are my two favorite roommates doing?”

Clarke and Raven glanced at each other. Neither of them mentioned telling Octavia that they had left, let alone that they were following them with Lincoln’s sisters. Not even Lincoln knew Anya and Lexa were on the move, most of Anya’s messages only threatening him to call back or tell one of them where he was.

“Oh, nothing. We just left a while ago to grab dinner with some friends,” Technically that was true. “Where have you been? I didn’t even see you come home last night.”

“I stayed at Lincoln’s place, I forgot to tell you.” Clarke turned to Lexa and Anya. Octavia still thought her friends had no idea about Lincoln’s living situation, and that the two people who would have noticed her in their apartment were listening in on the other end of their phone call. Raven shoved Clarke, mouthing the words “play along” before she leaned towards the phone.

“I see how it is, O. You plan on giving us the dirty details?”

“Oh god, please don’t.” Lexa mumbled.

“Ray, we have a long conversation ahead of us.” Octavia replied.

“I’m done for the night.” Anya pushed her half-finished sandwich away from her. Raven and Clarke stifled a laugh as Anya and Lexa stared at the phone in disgust.

Over the phone, engines roared in the background. Everyone and the table stopped to look at each other. Loud cheers drowned out the engines, a mumbled announcer speaking in the background.

“Jeez, O, you at a monster truck rally or something?” Raven asked. Lexa half expected Raven to be able to pick out what vehicle Octavia was near just by the sound.

“No, me and Lincoln took a little trip to go watch some drag races.” A little trip, that’s what she wanted to call it. If a two day drive and nearly a thousand miles out of DC was a little trip, Lexa hated to imagine what counted as a big trip for Octavia; probably involved crossing more than a few international borders, not even the easy land accessible ones like Canada or Mexico either.

“You hit up drag races without inviting me? I’m hurt.” Raven feigned disappointment; as long as Octavia didn’t get suspicious, they were safe.

“I’ll take you next time Ray, I promise. Clarke too, if she behaves.”

“Are you coming home tonight at least?” Clarke asked.

Another voice joined on Octavia’s end, speaking over the still yelling crowd. Anya and Lexa jumped over the table, recognizing the deeper voice as he mumbled to Octavia. The two pointed at the phone; Lexa mouthed “that’s Lincoln” while Anya silently spelled out what she would do to him the second she caught up to him. Raven smacked at both of them to sit back down before they slipped and blew their cover.

“Probably not. I’m staying with Lincoln again,” Lincoln mumbled again to Octavia, his words indecipherable as the crowd screamed again, cars zooming by wherever the two sat. “The race started, so I’m going to go. Just wanted you guys to know where I was before you freaked out or something.”

The said their goodbyes and hung up the phone. Before they freaked out had been an understatement. Clarke and Raven sighed. The phone call got them nowhere; they were better off just tracking their every move still.

“There’s a drag strip a few hours outside of Little Rock,” Anya said, the map already loaded on her phone. “We’re three or four hours out from it.”

“There’s no way they’ll take off again once the race is over,” Lexa said. It was already late; even if the race only lasted a few hours, there’s no way the two of them could drive off again near midnight, especially after driving for the second full day in a row. “Let’s wait ‘til the race is over, see if they find a hotel, and we wait them out.”

“Lexa’s right,” Clarke said. “We can’t screw up the same plan twice.”

Everyone at the table agreed. Raven made a list of the hotels near the strip, a small enough number that they could circle the parking lots of each one looking for Octavia’s car if Anya couldn’t pull up a specific enough location. They paid their bill, Anya offering to cover everyone as part of the truce, and headed out into the parking lot, discussing the plan along the way.

“We’ve got a big damn bridge in the middle of our path,” Raven chuckled as she mapped out the route on her phone. She held the screen to Anya’s face; Anya rolled her eyes, the actual name of the landmark reading “Big Dam Bridge.” Anya groaned. “Get it? Big Dam-“

“Raven,” Lexa interrupted as they exited the restaurant, staring at the parking lot. Only a few cars remained, the group being some of the last customers inside. “Where’s Xena?”

Raven pulled her keys out, clicking the unlock button on her key several times. Nothing beeped. She tried again, stepping towards the middle of lot. Still nothing.

“Raven,” Clarke looked around the parking lot. “Did you park in the handicap spot when we got here?”

“Yes, Doctor Griffin.” Raven groaned, still pressing the button on her keys every few seconds. Back in the car, when Clarke had fallen back asleep, Raven admitted she hated parking up front, only doing it when Clarke insisted on it or when she herself couldn’t deny that her leg was killing her too much to brave a walk across a parking lot.

“Did you put the sign on the mirror?” Raven stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Now that Clarke mentioned it, Lexa didn’t even remember seeing the blue placard anywhere in the car, even when Raven asked her to dig through the glove compartment for her phone charger. Lexa found plenty more tools, piles of Raven’s old insurance papers, a few unpaid parking tickets, but no handicap placard.

Clarke took Raven’s silence as an answer. She passed the group and headed back into the restaurant. They were in the middle of Tennessee with nothing but the phones and wallets in their pockets, the clothes on their backs, and each other. Lexa braced herself, ready to grab Anya before she actually tried to kill Raven this time, expecting the truce to go flying out the window. Anya simply sat down on the curb, not even flinching when Raven sat down next to her.

One step forward, fifty steps back; that had been the motto of the trip. How would they even explain the inevitable phone call to Octavia and Lincoln, begging them to come pick them up because Raven got Xena towed? Lexa dropped next to Anya, the three staring at the now empty parking spot in front of them.

Clarke came back outside, nudging Lexa in the back with the tip of her shoe. Lexa turned around as Clarke nodded for her to follow towards the corner of the building. Lexa hesitated about leaving Raven and Anya alone, but the two of them sitting with their tails tucked between their legs gave her the feeling that neither had the energy to start another fight. Lexa met Clarke around the building, the two facing the main road leading towards the middle of the city. Clarke handed Lexa a scrap of receipt paper, a number scrawled across it.

“Guy told me a cop saw us parked there and got it towed, but he gave me the number for the impound lot,” Clarke pulled out her phone and dialed the number. Lexa could hear the line ring before a voice answered. “Yeah, hi. My friend’s car got towed from Central BBQ, I need to see when we can pick it up.”

Clarke frowned as the other person spoke. “Uh huh”s and “Okay”s slipped from her mouth as she paced small circles along the side of the building. She described the car, probably to pull up whatever record the lot made for it when it got brought in. A few minutes passed before she hung up, Lexa waiting by her side.

“They open at eight tomorrow morning,” Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose; Lexa did the same thing when she was stressed, usually over the plain terrible writing of the papers she was grading or the inability to her group members on projects to form a remotely coherent thought. “We need $350 to get Xena out between the ticket and the storage fee.”

Lexa pulled out her wallet, counting the bills inside.

“I have thirty dollars.”

Clarke opened her wallet and checked her own pockets. She pulled out a handful of change.

“Seventeen cents,” Lexa groaned. “Look, we can just find an ATM and pool the money together between the four of us.”

“And what do we do until then?” Unless they planned on camping outside of the restaurant, they needed something to do for the night. Clarke scrolled through her phone. At least the restaurant had decent enough food; they could get a last minute order and curl up under the trees in the nearby planters, grab a few blankets from the Goodwill next door and make a little tent.

“There’s a Holiday Inn three miles that way.” Clarke pointed in the distance behind Lexa, turning back to her phone as she called the hotel to book a room. They returned to Anya and Raven, finding them in a contest of who could throw bits of gravel the farthest across the parking lot. Clarke explained the plan for the next day, the two of them too exhausted to even point out that they would be even further behind Octavia and Lincoln. They pulled themselves to their feet and started walking down the road towards the hotel.

“Hey Anya,” Raven trailed a few feet behind the woman. Anya turned in time to catch Raven jumping on her back, wrapping her arms around Anya’s neck and her legs around her waist. “Do you mind?”

“Why can’t you ask Clarke or Lexa?” Anya asked. Raven shrugged.

“Clarke might ram my head into a wall again. And Lexa already did me a solid with a wonderful story about you while you were asleep in the car.”

“What did you tell her?” Anya growled as they continued walking. Lexa shook her head, refusing to tell Anya about the rhinestone jacket; she had to get back at her for the comments about Clarke earlier somehow. Lexa realized she had more ammunition against Anya than she thought, noticing as Anya slid her arms under Raven’s legs to help keep her balanced on her back. Clarke caught it too, sharing a knowing glance at Lexa as they walked ahead of the two women.


	8. Memphis, Tennessee Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trash that is still not okay with this week's episode.

“Lexa,” A voice called out as Lexa slept next to Anya. Clarke did a better job of booking a hotel than Raven had. The Holiday Inn lacked the murder motel vibe, and actually offered rooms with two beds and fully attached bathroom doors. Lexa’s body shook as a hand gripped her shoulder. “Lexa, get up.”

“Stop it,” Lexa whined, pulling the covers over her head. She felt like she barely slept; between walking to the hotel and making a plan for the next morning, there hadn’t been much time to relax. Lexa knew someone had to wake up and take a taxi out to the impound lot and drive Xena back, that everyone had to be ready to climb in and take off again before Lincoln and Octavia disappeared. Whoever stood next to her shaking her wasn’t helping her accept her fate any less. “Go away.”

“Figures, you’re an attractive pain in the ass to wake up.” Lexa’s eyes shot open under the blanket. That was Clarke. Clarke called her attractive; she also called her a pain in the ass, but still an attractive one. Did Anya hear Clarke? Lexa could already picture the grin on Anya’s face if she did, the reign of tormenting comments she would come up with. And if she teamed up with Raven? Lexa would rather be stranded in Memphis for the rest of her life than deal with that.

Clarke upped her efforts in waking Lexa to smacking her with a pillow. Lexa gave herself a few seconds to compose herself before tossing the blanket back.

“What is it, Clarke?”

“You’re coming with me to get the car.”

 

“You think they’ll wake up on time?” Clarke asked as they waited outside the hotel for their taxi. Lexa shrugged; Anya slept through alarms all the time, including the fire alarm in the apartment the time Lexa tried making pancakes at three in the morning and fell asleep on the counter. “Who am I kidding, Raven slept through a car accident right outside our apartment.”

Their taxi arrived, the two sitting in the backseat as they drove to the impound lot. Lexa remained silent, partly because the taxi driver turned down the radio when they got in and kept glancing at them in the mirror, mostly because Clarke’s wake-up call still echoed in her head. She tried not to overthink it, which lasted an entire thirty seconds. It’s not like she could avoid Clarke once they got home, assuming Octavia and Lincoln’s relationship survived after they realized they’d been followed the entire trip. But the couple staying together could turn into anything; parties at the apartment where Clarke could personally show Lexa her paintings and Raven’s wall art, offering up a quiet place to study when Raven and Octavia got too disruptive, dinners cooked from scratched without Anya or Lincoln coming in and interrupting things.

“You think really loud, you know that?”

“What?” Lexa snapped her head to look at Clarke, hoping she hadn’t said anything out loud.

“You looked super focused on whatever you were thinking about,” If only Clarke knew. Lexa could almost picture sitting across the table from her, or sprawled out over her own bed with one of her textbooks in front of her, Lexa lying next to her going over her own notes. She even let herself be a bit more realistic, imagining Anya throwing her door open and barging in a split second before Lexa and Clarke kissed. “You’re doing it again.”

Clarke laughed as Lexa dropped her head against the back of the seat.

 

Memphis’ impound lot was a force to be reckoned with. The workers sent Clarke and Lexa standing in line at every window to get this form or that one signed, the pair eventually splitting up and standing separately, passing the form back and forth between windows until all the paper work was together. Clarke spent another fifteen minutes in a line that appeared out of nowhere, arguing with the lot security guard about getting into the car to get the insurance and registration papers they needed to get the car released. The guard claimed he needed to see the insurance and registration papers before they could go into the lot to get the insurance and registration papers from the car. Clarke thanked Lexa once they finally got Xena and drove out of the lot, knowing that Anya or Raven would have ripped the guard’s head off with how many circles he talked them through.

“Should we be nice and buy breakfast?” Clarke asked as they passed a string of fast food restaurants.

“Can we still afford breakfast?” They might have drained the ATM in the hotel lobby of its cash the night before to cover the fees for the car. Between two college students, a mechanic, and a cop, they might have been pushing the limits of their bank accounts.

“Dollar menu and bottles of water we snag from the continental breakfast?” Lexa agreed as they pulled into a McDonald’s drive thru, stuck behind about eight other cars with the same idea.

“Can I ask you something?” Lexa’s breath caught in her throat. She nodded, hoping Clarke wasn’t about to ask some deep, life altering question. But no easy question like “What’s your favorite animal?” was ever prompted with a warning beforehand.

“You know how me, Raven, and O wound up living together,” The car inched forward a few feet, though they still felt miles away from the intercom near the menu. “How’d you wind up living with your siblings?”

Lexa took a deep breath. None of them talked about their living situation often, especially not to near strangers. How much of their lives Lincoln had shared with Octavia over a few months, she couldn’t imagine. Trusting Clarke with the truth would have been another thing entirely.

“Never mind, it’s fine if you-“

“No,” Lexa cut Clarke off. “It’s just complicated. And long.”

“So is this line.” Clarke’s laugh at her own joke eased Lexa.

“We lived closer to Baltimore when we were kids. Anya moved out the second she turned eighteen. I was only thirteen when it happened, Lincoln was almost twelve. No bad blood with our parents or anything, she just hated Baltimore for whatever reason and wanted to leave.”

“Anya making decisions without thinking them out? You’re kidding me.” Lexa laughed, Clarke already picking up on the truth behind her sister.

“She’d call for our birthdays, holidays, the usual, but she never really came home or told us where she was,” Lexa remembered the excitement she felt seeing Anya’s name pop up on the screen of her old flip phone, talking to the big sister she looked up to as a scrawny little teenager for a few minutes at a time. “I think at one point she was living in Missouri. No idea what she found to keep her busy out there.”

Lexa paused, knowing the next part of the story. Clarke waited, not pushing her to continue. Lexa imagined Clarke would have been okay if she ended the story there, not even explaining how Anya came home and they moved to DC.

“Our dad was sick for a while, before Anya left. Practically every heart problem in the book,” She continued as her voice shook. “Mom was always running back and forth between the hospital and dragging me and Lincoln to school or whatever practice we had. When I was fifteen, he passed away.”

“A few weeks after the funeral, she dropped me and Lincoln off at school. She didn’t pick us up.” Lexa swallowed back the knot in her throat. Clarke’s eyes burned on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to face her, not when her eyes stung with the tears she fought back with every word.

“Did something happen to her?” Clarke finally spoke, her voice barely audible over the sound of the engine idling. Lexa shook her head. She still remembered the day, waiting for Lincoln on the bleachers during his football practice, the two walking to the parking lot near the football field together. They looked for their mom’s SUV for an hour, never seeing it roll up to the curb to pick them up. They made the three mile walk back to their house, finding it empty; not of possessions, but of any remnants of the life they had with both of their parents around. Lexa searched her parents’ bedroom, most of her mother’s clothes gone, her father’s still on hangers on his side of the closet or folded in dresser drawers.

She wrapped herself in one of his old sweaters, breathing in the fading scent of his cologne. Two kids with no family, that’s what they’d become; a dead father, a runaway mother, and a sister who’s phone calls grew less frequent every time she bounced from place to place. Part of Lexa wanted to stay hidden in that room, crying into her father’s sweater as if it would bring him back to fix everything. But Lincoln knocked on the door, asking her what they were supposed to do. Lexa wiped the tears from her face, tossed the sweater back in the closet, and led Lincoln downstairs, digging through the kitchen cabinets for whatever they could call dinner for the night.

“I called our aunt, Indra. She got in touch with our mother, said she headed up north to stay with family. Indra stayed with me and Lincoln for a few days, made sure we were going to school and not starving to death.”

Clarke covered Lexa’s hand with her own, both resting on the center console. The half second of contact offered more reassurance than Indra had; she told them to be strong and not dwell on the past, even though their entire family had been stripped away from them piece by piece.

“Indra found out Anya was living out in Kentucky. She convinced her to come home.” She’d known Anya came back before she even opened the front door, the two women locked in a heated argument in the middle of the living room. Anya stopped to hug Lexa and Lincoln, ignoring Indra screaming behind her.

Lexa expected Clarke to make another joke about Anya showing emotion towards her siblings. Instead, the hand covering her squeezed tighter, assuring Lexa that she could go on.

“Indra wanted us to move to DC with her, but Anya wanted us to stay in Baltimore until we finished school. They somewhat compromised after days of arguing.” Anya knew they would lose too much if they packed up and left. Lincoln and Lexa had the same group of friends since grade school. Their neighbors knew them better than whatever family members their mother abandoned them for ever would; the Nortons two houses down brought homemade meals a few times a week after their father died, endless loaves of banana bread lining the kitchen counter, pot pies packed and frozen in the freezer, little things like an extra gallon of milk in case they ran out. Nobody would get Lexa to admit it, but she would have missed her summers coaching a junior soccer team more than anything else if they left Baltimore, the swarms of ten year olds growing on her every time they yelled “Coach Lex, did you see that?” when they scored a goal.

“We moved to DC, but Anya came with us. Indra had a few houses she owned and rented out, so she let us stay in one, on the condition that Anya paid the bills and she got monthly updates on me and Lincoln’s grades and whatever after school stuff we were in.”

“Hence the over-protectiveness.” Clarke mumbled, placing the pieces together.

“Try to imagine Anya waking us up every morning and making us breakfast,” Clarke and Lexa laughed, the idea of Anya doing anything in a remotely calm and nurturing manner nearly impossible to picture. Her wake up calls used to involve a promise of unburnt toast in the kitchen, not her full body weight on top of them while she shook them until they woke up or got whiplash. “She worked a lot of odd jobs to pay the bills. I offered to get one after school, waitressing or bagging groceries during the off-season for softball at least, but she refused. Eventually she got in the police academy and it made things a little easier. Except for Lincoln. He got used to Anya being his alarm clock, so he overslept a couple of times when she was on patrol and not home to wake him up.”

“Softball?” Clarke asked as she pulled up to the menu. She rattled off a few items from the Dollar Menu, adding in two iced coffees for herself and Lexa. Lexa nodded, the line of trophies from four years of high school and two years of college playing took up one of the shelves in her room. “I played too in high school, back in Wisconsin. I gave it up when I moved to DC for school.”

“Shame,” Lexa offered Clarke her debit card to help cover the breakfast, but she refused. “Would have been a nice nostalgia trip if you kept playing. Bring back memories of all the runs I scored on you. Or every time I struck you out.”

“You a pitcher? Please,” They rolled up to the first window. Lexa only noticed that their hands were still together when Clarke reached out to take the drinks from the cashier. “You wouldn’t have thrown a ball I couldn’t hit.”

Lexa took the drink and shrugged. Let Clarke believe whatever she wants to believe. Maybe they’ll swing by one of the fields back in DC and see who was right, turn the whole thing into a friendly competition, Team Woods versus Team Griffin. Or they could keep it between the two of them, end the game with a picnic in the outfield behind third base. The loser could be the one to pay for dinner next, something a little less bat and glove filled, something more private in the back booth of a restaurant, the two of them completely oblivious to anyone else around them.

“Lexa,” Clarke interrupted her daydream again, both hands full with bags of food. “Seriously, did you take one too many fly balls to the head back then?”

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke.” Lexa took the bags and placed them on the floor between her feet. Clarke rolled her eyes, unable to entirely fight back her smile.

“Mockery is not the product…you’re such a nerd,” They took turns stealing fries out of one of the bags, agreeing to give the scavenged through one to Raven and Anya for all the trouble they caused. “So why did you trade the house for the apartment?”

That decision fell on Anya’s shoulders. Living in the house had been fine, despite Indra’s unannounced visits, taking full advantage of the set of keys she held. More than a handful of times, Lexa found opened letters on the kitchen table: ones about her tuition payments or terms of her scholarships, Lincoln’s acceptance letters to colleges across the country, even Anya’s own packets of information about her benefits from joining the police. One afternoon, Lexa woke up to a plumber in the kitchen, working on a leaking pipe under the sink that neither she or her siblings had ever mentioned to Indra or called the plumber for themselves.

“Anya got sick of Indra micromanaging things, so we moved. Indra got mad for a while, but she forgave us when she realized we didn’t completely screw up our lives.”

“Don’t speak so soon, we still haven’t found Lincoln and Octavia yet,” Clarke teased. She turned solemn for a second as they pulled up to a stoplight. “Did you ever hear from you mom?”

Lexa shook her head. Lincoln and Anya spoke to her; not often, only a few times after she left and they moved to DC. Neither spoke to Lexa about it, figuring that if she ever wanted to know, she would pick up the phone herself and ask.

 She accepted the change in her family the second she caught Lincoln crying behind her back as they pulled together a make-shift dinner for themselves. She buried the pain under work, pushing herself in softball and her classes, using them as reminders that she had the weight of too many worlds on her shoulders to fail: Indra hawking over everything she and her siblings did, Lincoln looking up to her and using her as an example of someone who knew how to balance their lives, Anya running herself ragged to make sure she had everything she needed to keep life as close to normal as she could.

“So you just stopped caring?” Lexa shrugged. Caring left her prone to breaking down again like she did when she came home, hiding in her father’s sweater. She had her moment of weakness then; staying strong for what was left of her family became the only choice Lexa allowed herself to make.

“You know it’s okay to feel something about it, right?” Further evidence that Clarke could read minds and now had piles of blackmail against Lexa to use whenever she so desired to. “I blamed my mom for so long when my dad died. I was seventeen and already heading out to DC for school with Raven, but I didn’t talk to her for months. Raven forced us to talk when we went back to Wisconsin for the summer.”

“Did it help?”

“Not much, not at first,” Clarke tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “I blamed her for being on call at the hospital the night he got brought in. She was in the ER, she could have been the one in there working on him. Instead she went with the guy who hit him in the car accident. He lived and my dad died. Sometimes I still think she would have been better than the other doctor on call, that she would have gotten him stable and into surgery faster.”

“Did she understand where you were coming from?”

“Eventually,” Clarke wiped at her eyes. “I think she blamed herself for the same reasons.”

Clarke healed from her loss. She let people like Raven side with her as she worked through the pain, put aside her own feelings to come to a point of understanding with her mother. Even through silent tears, she showed no sign of weakness for tackling her feelings head on.

 

They parked in front of the hotel, Clarke making sure to hang the placard on the mirror to avoid another scenario like the night before. The walked around the back of the building near the pool, using one of the doors leading into a stairwell to make their way back to the fifth floor.

“I know it sounds harsh,” Lexa acknowledged the thought herself many times. She overheard the conversations Lincoln and Anya had with their mother, the way they seemed to forgive her for leaving. Maybe they truly did. But Lexa lived blinded by the fact that she just left, not caring how her own kids would fend for themselves, not even telling Indra herself that she planned to leave and give her time to figure out what to do with Lincoln and Lexa. “But that’s how I survived.”

“Maybe life should be about more than just surviving,” Clarke’s words stopped Lexa on the landing between the third and fourth floors. Clarke faced Lexa like she had so many times before; on the side of the road by the Jeep, in the hotel room in Bristol, outside the restaurant. Every time had been some kind of power struggle, a need for one to have the upper hand and take control of the situation they were in, as if their lives and those of everyone involved in this trip depended on it. “Don’t we deserve better than that?”

Clarke looked away, feeling for the room key in her pocket. Lexa’s eyes wandered to her lips, Clarke too distracted to notice Lexa’s focus. Things weren’t supposed to work out this way; Clarke wasn’t supposed to waltz in and solve the Lincoln problem, or make Lexa take five steps back in the mirror and reconsider the way she’d spent the last eight years thinking. Not in a few days. Not even in a life time and the next if Lexa had her way. How could Clarke look right through her and witness the burden she dragged with her, years after Lexa refused to acknowledge it herself?

Because Clarke was just like her, only a thousand times better equipped to deal with things, not afraid to acknowledge her sadness over her loss, not willing to permanently mask it with anger over the situation and deem it a weakness to look back on. Years of sitting with the sour taste of the situation in her mouth, all broken down by Clarke asking one question and listening to her.

“Maybe we do.”

Lexa might not have wanted it, but Clarke was right. She deserved it.

Clarke looked back at Lexa, eyes wide as she tried to comprehend Lexa’s words. Even Clarke thought she was too stubborn to listen to her, just another attractive, pain in the ass to wake up, even more of a pain to convince that she’s allowed to feel. Lexa understood them fully.

_Clarke’s right._

Lexa slipped her hand behind Clarke’s neck. Her fingers threaded through her hair, waiting for Clarke to show the slightest sign of hesitation. Clarke closed her eyes and leaned into Lexa’s touch. Lexa closed the distance between them, her eyes slipping closed. Clarke took a half step forward, the two meeting closer than either aimed for. Lexa’s fingers grazed Clarke’s hips, her palm falling on her waist.

_Clarke’s right._

Their lips met, Clarke’s bottom lip slipping between Lexa’s. Lexa’s thought came in ticks: Clarke’s breath on Lexa’s cheek. Clarke’s hand settling on the arm holding them together. Clarke pushing back against Lexa for control. Maybe some things hadn’t changed.

Lexa pulled back, taking a shaky breath as Clarke held her ground. Lexa tilted her head, grazing the tip of her nose against Clarke’s, taking half a second to savor the sharp inhale from Clarke, the feeling of Clarke’s fingertips softly digging into the skin of her arm at the contact. She leaned back in, Clarke’s parted lips awaiting hers.

The echo of a door slamming, metal on metal on the next floor pulled them apart. Footsteps filled the stairwell as a family with three small kids ran down the steps towards the lobby. Lexa stepped to the side, leading Clarke as they kept their holds on each other. The mother of the family stared as she passed, whispering to her husband as they descended the stairs. Right, they were still stuck in Tennessee, one of the few places she and Clarke would turn heads in. Once the yells of the children and their parents faded, another muffled door slamming three floors below, Clarke and Lexa breathed out heavy sighs.

Lexa debated pulling Clarke back in, but Clarke took a half step away. Lexa dropped her hands, ignoring the way Clarke’s had seemed to tighten around her arm as she stepped back towards the wall off the stairwell. She imagined it, just like she might be better off thinking the kiss was another one of those scenarios she kept wandering off in.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke whispered. “Not yet.” Clarke’s eyes narrowed at her own words. Lexa nodded. Not yet, not after three days of being crammed in a car together. Not after one honest conversation that didn’t involve a drunk roommate or an overprotective sibling. Clarke read the disappointment in Lexa’s face, maybe even some of her own doubt behind her words.

“Lincoln and Octavia first.” Clarke added, turning and heading up the stairs. Lexa followed behind her, echoes of “ _Not yet”_ crowding her head.


	9. Middle of Nowhere, Oklahoma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for your support! Any comments/feedback are always appreciated.  
> Feel free to stop by my mess at commandermari.tumblr.com

“We need to set a few things straight.” Clarke announced from the driver’s seat. Lexa opted to sit in the back with Raven, letting Anya ride shotgun. The amount of times she replayed the kiss in her head made it impossible to sit next to Clarke, let alone be responsible for reading out the GPS directions to her. Each moment of it churned in her mind, endless streams of what ifs following. What if Lexa had went back for another kiss a second sooner? What if that family hadn’t stormed through the stairwell at that exact moment? What if she had said something, anything, before Clarke headed back up to the room?

“Clarke, we had this talk long ago. I still love you. You being bisexual absolutely does not make you less of a person.” Raven covered her heart with one hand, the other sitting on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Raven, can you be serious for five minutes?”

“I was being serious. I’m proud of you for being you, Griffin.” Clarke plucked Raven’s hand from her shoulder, eyes focused on the road in front of them.

“I mean about this,” Clarke waved at the four of them in the car. “We need to set a plan of attack. Octavia and Lincoln are already in Oklahoma.”

With everything that happened that morning, Lexa nearly forgot about Lincoln and Octavia being ahead of them. Lexa tore her thoughts away long enough to help figure out the plan for the next few hours. At the rate they travelled at, Lincoln and Octavia would be back in DC before the group even made it to the last stop they made.

“Raven, you have to let us all drive,” The look on Raven’s face made it seem like Lexa suggested they blow the car up with everyone in it. “You and Clarke can’t keep driving in shifts like this, especially if we have to drive through the night to catch up.”

“Not in a million years. I’ve seen what this one does to other people’s cars,” Raven pointed at Anya, still disgusted by the damage she did to Lincoln’s Jeep. “Do you know what happened the first time I let Clarke drive? She clipped my side mirror on a pole at a Starbucks drive thru.”

“I got it fixed, Raven.”

“Was that pumpkin spice latte worth it Clarke? Was it worth almost destroying our friendship?”

Unless Raven caved, they would never close the gap with Lincoln and Octavia until the two turned around and headed back home. All the days they spent driving after them would go to waste. They might as well have just burned the money they spent on gas and hotels and Raven’s parking ticket if they came back home empty handed.

“Then let me drive.” Lexa suggested. As far as Raven knew, Lexa hadn’t ruined the transmission on any cars; so long as Anya kept her mouth shut about the current state of Lexa’s Cobalt and Raven hadn’t caught a glimpse of the full list of repairs she had done at the shop, it would stay that way. Not that any of those were actually due to Lexa’s driving habits; most were chalked up to the age of the car and faulty parts, or bad luck with blown tires flying off of semi’s while she drove down the highway.

An extra person driving could be the difference between cornering Lincoln in a parking lot or missing him by a couple of hours in the morning again. They would have the upper hand again: knowing their every location, being able to drive farther and longer, the couple still having no idea that they were being followed.

“You trust her, Clarke?” Raven couldn’t have picked a worse time to ask that question. Clarke turned to look at Raven in the backseat. Instead, she looked at Lexa, the same way she looked at her when Lexa confessed her past. Would she trust Lexa as a strategist, after realizing in hindsight that most of her suggestions of the trip would have put them in a better position to find the couple and ended the trip earlier, or prevented it at all? Would she trust Lexa as two people with a mutual past could, knowing the pain of losing one parent and abandoning another? Would she even trust Lexa at all, or cast her to the side as a liar with some irrational need to shut herself off from the world?

“Yeah,” Clarke replied softly. She looked over to Raven. “We have no other choice.”

 

Watching acres of farmland blending into each other, the occasional farmhouse spotted in the distance, made time drag by even slower. Lexa didn’t bother to listen to Raven and Anya argue over movie adaptations of books as they passed the filming location for _Gone with the Wind_ , or take part in Clarke’s attempts to sing along with a mix tape found under one of the seats, filled with nothing but pop songs from the 2000’s. Her conversation with Clarke left her exhausted, as if she hadn’t actually slept through the night. Lexa opted out of the karaoke session taking place in the front seat; Anya forced Raven to swap seats with her after Clarke nudged her one too many times in the arm, trying to get her to do backup vocals for “London Bridge,” a role Raven was all too happy to take up instead.

“Still with the heart eyes?” Anya asked, knowing Clarke and Raven were too distracted to pay any attention to their conversation. Lexa shook her head. She had been watching Clarke and Raven, singing back and forth, Raven recording the entire thing including shots of Anya rolling her eyes in the backseat and Lexa covering her face as she laughed.

“There’s nothing you need to worry about.” Not yet, Lexa reminded herself. Anya watched her, tracking Lexa’s every eye movement as if she would catch her in the act again. Given the option of sleep or potentially slipping and looking at Clarke too long to pass it off as a judgmental look for her horrible driver’s seat dance moves, Lexa took the route least likely to dig her into a deeper hole.

“What happened when you picked up the car?”

“We talked, the thing that normal people would do in that situation.” Lexa leaned against the door, turning her body away from Anya.

“Talked about what?” Conversations about abandoning families and blocking off feelings, completely normal for people who just met. A split second conversation where Clarke might have implied that once this mess with Octavia and Lincoln ended, something could stand between her and Lexa. Lexa refused to answer, using the time to check where Lincoln was headed next.

“You can’t avoid this conversation forever,” Anya warned as Lexa closed her eyes, trying to sleep her way out of an interrogation. “I will tase you if I have to.”

“Bite me, Anya.”

 

After hours of driving in silence, Clarke sound asleep in the front seat, tired out from putting on a full concert for everyone in the car, Raven pulled over outside of Oklahoma City to swap with Lexa.

“I’m warning you,” Raven blocked Lexa from climbing back in the car. “Move my seat and I will leave you and your sister in a ditch where nobody will find you.” Raven circled to the backseat next to Anya, wrapping herself in her jacket and falling asleep.

Lexa took a minute to check on Lincoln and Octavia. Nothing must have caught their eye along the way either, their path leading straight from Arkansas to the Texas panhandle. She feared the worst; they were planning a cross country trip and wouldn’t stop until they hit the west coast, at least another two days’ worth of driving.

Clarke stirred next to her, waking as Lexa pulled back onto the road. They sat in silence, Lexa focused on the road in front of her, Clarke tugging the sweatshirt she’d slept under back over her head. Silence, Lexa could handle; no interrogations from Anya, no vague threats from Raven that might involve a shovel hidden in the car somewhere, no reminders from Clarke about what happened in the hotel.

Buildings faded from view the further they got from the city. Little crops of houses popped up in bunches of two or three, fenced off acres of farm land behind them. The flat lands stretched to the horizon, only broken up by random mile stretches of trees, the bright orange of the setting sun broken up by the dark shadows of branches.

“Is this what I missed?” Clarke asked, her voice hoarse from sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Not really,” Lexa replied, another patch of empty land with a tractor and a half demolished silo blurring as they sped by. “Mostly cows. Acres and acres of cows.”

“Should’ve woken me up. I haven’t seen a good cow pasture since I left Wisconsin,” Lexa sensed she was hesitating, buying herself time to figure out her next words. Lexa didn’t know what much else she had to say; Clarke had said her piece, challenged Lexa on shutting herself down, and told her to wait. Unless Clarke changed her mind over the last ten hours, they could leave it at that. “Lexa, what happened back-“

“It’s fine, Clarke.” The outcome of the situation was far from fine. She let down her guard too easily; Clarke’s questions came like a sledgehammer at the walls Lexa spent years building. Now they sat together for who knows how much longer, Clarke holding Lexa’s past over her head, ready to use it against her at any second. Lexa expected it to happen; if Anya got on Clarke or Raven’s nerves on more time, if they screwed up another plan and fell further behind, if they finally caught up to Lincoln and Octavia and found out this had been Lincoln’s doing all along. Worse, Clarke could hold it in, the two going the rest of their lives, whether they saw each other again or not, knowing that Clarke carried more knowledge of Lexa’s past than anyone besides her siblings knew.

“You can’t tell me it’s fine. Not after what you said in the car. Or what happened in the hotel.”

“You need to focus, Clarke. It’s not personal.”

“It is to me,” All Lexa had to do was focus on not driving Raven’s car off the side of the road. Keep the between the yellow and white highway lines, and they’d be fine. The headlights flicked on, reflecting off the mile marker signs on the side of the road as the last light from the sun slipped behind the horizon. “I told you about the worst thing in my life. That doesn’t earn me any trust?”

“I do trust you, Clarke.” She told Gustus she trusted Clarke before they even sat down together in DC. Back then, she was missing a brother, stranded without a car, and desperate for a way to find Lincoln and keep Anya from having a breakdown. Halfway across the country, those excuses were thrown out the window as they crossed state line after state line.

“I know how hard that is for you.” The lights from a car passing in the opposite direction shone through the windshield. Lexa glanced at the passenger seat from the corner of her eyes. Clarke turned her body to face Lexa, eyes locked on Lexa’s face, challenging her to deny that she understood her past. Lexa wanted to prove her wrong, to end the conversation there as they passed a chain of eighteen wheelers. Clarke wasn’t the counselor in the car, Lexa was, or would be once she finished school; she didn’t need Clarke’s efforts to guide her through her emotions, some kind of consolation prize.

“You should sleep. You’re up after me.” Lexa reached out to turn the radio back on, hoping the hours of dead air and no radio signal were over. White noise might make Clarke tired again and get her off Lexa’s back the rest of the time she drove.

Clarke snatched Lexa by the wrist, pulling her hand away from the radio. She pinned Lexa’s hand on the center console; earlier it had been a sign of comfort, now a sign that Clarke wasn’t about to let Lexa back out of the conversation so easily.

“You’re terrified of people seeing the human side of you, aren’t you? That’s why you turn into a grump when Anya tells stories about you growing up, or why Lincoln never told us a thing about you, because he knows you wouldn’t want your image ruined when we all met,” Lexa stared down at the steering wheel, hardly looking up at the road, let alone at Clarke. “And now you regret telling me about your family because you know I see right through you.”

“Does it matter, Clarke? Is any of this going to matter when we get back home?” They could never speak again. They could find Lincoln and Octavia and go home; Raven and Clarke can drive back while Anya and Lexa take the first plane, train, whatever they can find back to DC. They can sit in silence in the car the whole drive back, no closer than they were to the taxi driver that morning.

“I wouldn’t have said that back at the hotel if I thought it wouldn’t matter.” Lexa looked from Clarke’s hand, still wrapped around her wrist, to Clarke’s eyes, barely visible through the darkness that creeped up on them. She didn’t need another car to pass by light up the interior for half a second; Clarke held the same look she did in the stairwell, the same look where Lexa realized Clarke saw straight through her.

It went against everything Lexa believed; trusting someone she knew less than a week when her own family chose to hide secrets from her. She didn’t get her hopes up over “what ifs” and “maybes” when she already had definite plans set for herself: find Lincoln, get back home, ride out the summer and finish school. Yet she sat there, contemplating letting Clarke, and probably by extension, Raven and Octavia slip into those plans, all based on Clarke’s own swears that she was telling the truth.

Clarke dropped her hand from the top of Lexa’s, slipping it between her palm and the center console. So close, Clarke could feel the tough skin that still littered Lexa’s hand from years of softball, the scars and cuts left from climbing the giant oak tree in the backyard with Lincoln and Anya back in Baltimore. Lexa’s fingers twitched against Clarke’s. A small callous formed on Clarke’s index finger, years of painting and writing left handed leaving their mark, smaller ones dotting the rest of her finger sending Lexa in an almost desperate spiral of trying to picture how Clarke held a pen or a brush while she worked.

Lexa laced their fingers together, Clarke’s folding over the top of her hand, settling into the spaces between her knuckles. She wished Clarke had let her turn the radio on, if only to drown out the quiet gasp she let slip as Clarke rubbed her thumb across Lexa’s. Where Lexa’s hands were rough, from gym equipment and building up walls, Clarke’s were soft and welcoming. Ten hours after “not yet” hadn’t been long enough to change things permanently; Lexa stopped herself before going onto another tangent of imagining herself and Clarke spending the rest of the trip that way. She would let herself enjoy the moment for as long as the miles ticked by.

 

According to the odometer on the dash, their moment lasted exactly seven tenths of a mile. They didn’t even get the chance to shine a light on their linked hands or the hidden grins as they took in the moment; no time for someone to pull out a phone with their free hand, no cars passing them in the opposite direction, not even a chance to flip on the interior light.

Music played from Clarke’s pocket, the muffled chords of “One Way or Another” filling the car.

“It’s Octavia,” Lexa raised an eyebrow as Clarke fished the phone out with her free hand. “I changed her ringtone when we took off after her. Don’t judge me, Lexa.”

“I’m not saying anything.” Lexa bounced their hands against the console while Clarke answered.

“What’s up, Blake?” Clarke held the phone away from her, switching to speaker, the same as she did in the restaurant.

“You and Raven doing another girls’ night at the apartment?” Unlike Octavia’s last call, the background was silent. No noticeable sounds to tip them off of whatever roadside stop they made, no Lincoln talking next to her, not even a radio playing to give a hint that she and Lincoln were still driving.

“Yeah, the usual. Chinese take-out, Buffy marathon, tub of ice cream-“

“A sing along with Lincoln’s sisters in the backseat of Xena?”

Octavia couldn’t have known that. Unless she had been driving right behind them unnoticed for miles, she had no way of knowing Clarke and Raven weren’t home, let alone that Lincoln’s sisters that she had never seen were in the car with them.

“You know, I’m going over it in my head, just trying to figure out how some random chick kept winding up in the background of the pictures Raven posted on Instagram of you guys at that dinosaur place,” Clarke and Lexa looked at Raven, still sound asleep in the backseat. People had strangers in the background of their public pictures all the time. Lexa couldn’t be the only person that wore her hair in braids or got dragged into candid shots taken in the mouth of a badly carved shark. “But then I figured out she wasn’t so random.”

“What are you talking about?” Clarke’s grip on Lexa’s hand tightened.

“I saw the picture of you guys in Tennessee. And the videos from the car. We both did. Kind of hard for Lincoln to not recognize his own sisters right next to my best friends.”

How could Raven even think posting the pictures would be a good idea? She pushed it sending the Dinosaurland ones right to Octavia, but openly throwing the ones with all of them together in front of a pretty identifiable landmark out where Octavia, Lincoln, and anyone else with a half decent WiFi signal could see them?

“Tell me you guys aren’t following us, Clarke,” Clarke sighed and let go of Lexa’s hand, pinching the bridge of her nose again. Lexa left her hand flat against the console, the fabric cover too cold and discomforting compared to Clarke’s hand. “Give Lexa or Anya the phone.”

Clarke handed the phone over, pressing her head against the dashboard once Lexa took it from her. Of all the ways she could have shared her first conversation with Octavia, it had to be then, ruining whatever sliver of a moment she shared with Clarke so that Octavia could reach through the phone and strangle her bare handed.

“It’s Lexa.” What else was she supposed to say? Throwing Anya under the bus might have been a safer bet, let Octavia know absolutely none of this was Lexa’s idea and hope that Lincoln would support her; as long as Lincoln differentiated them as the rational sister and the explosive one in whatever stories he told her, she might have a chance at not being ripped apart.

“I can only imagine the excuse you two have for this,” Definitely not Octavia. Definitely Lincoln using the same voice he uses when he finds out his clients went on three cheat days in a row without even getting past the first page of the training program he put together for them. “Get it over with. Tell me why.”

“Get it over with?” Lexa spat. He wanted to make them into the bad guys of the situation? “Why don’t we start with you not telling us you were leaving? Or you not answering your phone to let us know where you were going or when you’d be coming back?”

“Does privacy not exist to you people?” Even Clarke winced at Lincoln’s words, distancing himself from the only family he had left. For a split second, Lexa thought he forgot going bass fishing with their dad on Centennial Lake as kids and pushing Anya over the edge of the boat, or the first Christmas they spent in the apartment when they were all too broke to actually buy presents and pooled together their money for two pizzas and a twelve pack of root beer. This wasn’t how they treated each other, even when they royally pissed each other off. Lexa still gave Anya a ride to work the day after she tased her. Lincoln still took Lexa’s car to the shop even after she accidentally tossed out a copy of his final history paper that got mixed in with her sociology study guide.

“We worried about you. Does that make us terrible people? Not wanting to find out that girl dragged you into some stupid situation that would ruin your life?”

“Leave Octavia out of this,” Clarke threatened, trying not to wake Anya and Raven, the two still tucked in the backseat, unaware that their entire plan had gone up in flames. “For all either of us know, this was his plan.”

“My brother wouldn’t do something this stupid.”

“Neither would Octavia,” Clarke paused. “Not sober, at least.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring, Clarke. My brother may or may not be running across the country on Octavia’s drunken whim.” Lexa heard enough stories involving Octavia and alcohol; it wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination to picture her coming up with worse ideas than chasing butterflies on the couch or trying to throw butter knives at a pizza box taped to the kitchen cabinets.

“If it is, it’s his fault. He’s the one that brings her home brewed beer that might have a questionable alcohol content."

“I’m sorry, she got the two bottles of vodka that led to the ‘artwork’ in your apartment how?”

“That has nothing to do with Octavia. Raven and I took full responsibility for that one, and we still turned it around to make it a good thing.”

“Oh, what a great pair of influences you two have been on her.”

“Says the one whose sister tases people for fun.” Clarke had her there; a tasing did have more serious implications than a hole in the wall that could be covered with some plaster and paint, or a picture frame in their case. Anya might tase one of them again, but Lexa doubted Clarke would ever get another drunk attempt at a piggy back ride from Raven in an enclosed hallway again.

“Anya’s lapses of judgement have nothing to do with me or my brother.”

“Your brother can still hear you,” Lincoln reminded Lexa, neither helping nor hurting her argument with Clarke. How Raven and Anya slept through the whole thing amazed her. “Turn around and go home, Lexa. You and Anya will be lucky if I even come back to the apartment.”

“Same goes for you and Raven, Clarke.” Octavia chimed in. The line cut off, an uneasy silence filling the car.

“Now what?” Clarke asked after a few minutes. The headlights bounced over one of the green highway signs, reflecting on the dirt stained letters: two hundred miles until they reached Amarillo, the next closest city. Lexa didn’t feel like staying on the road that long, not when they might be turning around and crawling back to DC in shame anyways.

“We’re stopping at the first hotel I see.”


	10. Elk City, Oklahoma

Lexa idled in the car in front of the motel office, Clarke inside booking their rooms for the night. Setting off after Lincoln and Octavia again would be useless. Lincoln caught on to their way of following him, disabling the app from his phone completely; unless Anya whipped out some high level police issued tracking device following a chip she implanted in one of his teeth while he slept years ago, they were stuck, only knowing they were probably holed up in New Mexico for the night. Not even his bank account worked. Lincoln must have switched his password back from the one Anya set when they left.

As Clarke stepped out of the office, Lexa shut off the engine. She leaned into the backseat, shaking Raven and Anya’s legs to wake them up.

“I don’t want to drive.” Raven mumbled.

“I don’t want her to drive either.” Anya replied.

“We’re stopping for the night,” Lexa opened the door, popping the trunk open for Clarke, waiting to get their bags and head to their rooms. “Get out.”

Clarke dropped their bags onto the pavement one by one. Lexa joined, slinging her own duffle bag over her shoulder. Anya and Raven took their time climbing out of the car, giving them the first chance to talk since the phone call.

“Look, I didn’t know Raven posted those pictures.”

“It’s not your fault, Clarke.” They should have made that an explicit rule for the trip: no throwing punches, no Anya driving, no Raven posting incriminating pictures of the group on social media sites. Lexa knew the pictures had been a bad idea in the first place; she figured they would be used for personal blackmail later on, not blowing their entire cover of staying home in their respective apartments.

“Just don’t go too harsh on Raven.” Clarke pleaded. Lexa was the worst of Raven’s worries. A fifteen minute head start might give Raven long enough to find a hiding spot from Anya, knowing the reaction she’d have when she found out. Judging by the number of telephone lines outnumbering actual buildings surrounding the hotel, Raven might have to resort to hiding in one of the tanker trucks parked in the empty lot next to the hotel. Making the drive down to Amarillo might have been worth it; two extra hours would have meant stopping somewhere with a population a few digits longer than the motel’s phone number.

“I thought you driving was supposed to keep us from stopping?” Anya questioned, stretching in the middle of the parking lot.

“Something came up and we needed to stop.” Lexa replied.

Raven peeked over the backseat, Lexa’s comment fully waking her up. She scrambled out of the car, circling to the back and slamming the trunk closed. Clarke narrowly lost a hand, leaning against the trunk as she waited for everyone to head up to the room.

“If that ‘something’,” Raven raised her fingers in air quotes as she stood toe to toe with Lexa. “Has anything to do with Xena in even the slightest way, I will grab my tool box, take my pliers, and shove them so far up your a-“

Clarke cut Raven short with a hand clamped over her mouth, her mumbled threats still running on for a good twenty seconds before she pulled Clarke’s hand away.

“It’s not Xena,” Clarke assured her, handing Raven her backpack. “We’ll talk in the room.”

Raven walked backwards towards the row of hotel rooms, pointing her fingers held in a V shape, first at her own eyes, then at Lexa’s. Anya stood beside Lexa and clapped her on the shoulder.

“It’s actually kind of funny when she’s threatening you and not me.”

“Shut up, Anya.”

 

Half an hour passed before the news could even be dropped, Raven dedicated to looking over Xena, convinced Lexa had done some kind of damage while driving. After scanning every inch of the body for dents, checking the fluid levels on everything, even the windshield washer, twice, Raven returned to the room everyone met up in. She took a spot on the foot of the bed, nodding at Lexa to assure her that the pliers on the dresser would not be used that night.

“Please tell me we stopped here because they’re in the next room,” Anya said, leaning against the dresser, turning Raven’s pliers over in her hand. “I would love to kick the door down and scare the living crap out of Lincoln and Octoberfest with these.”

“Seriously, have you been reading a dictionary this whole time to come up with these names?” Raven asked, taking the pliers from Anya and throwing them in the front pocket of her backpack. Anya tried to steal them back, reaching over Raven to get into her bag.

“They aren’t in the next room,” Clarke answered. She glanced at Lexa, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the room. “We lost contact with Octavia and Lincoln an hour ago.”

The wrestling match between Anya and Raven stopped, the two looking over at Clarke, locked in the small hallway near the bathroom. At least if they snapped, she could bolt out of the door before either of them could stand up from the bed.

“We what?” Anya stood at the foot of the bed. Lexa jumped up, standing behind Anya.

“Check your phone.” Lexa suggested before Anya decided to start swinging. It took seconds for her to realize the truth, Lincoln’s phone no longer popping up on her screen, their entire trail stopped cold from the last time they looked hours ago. Anya spun around to face Lexa.

“They just stopped showing up?” Lexa nodded. “Do you think they know?”

Lexa glanced over Anya’s shoulder at Clarke. Only the two of them knew the truth. If they kept quiet, they could pass it off as a weird screw up. Maybe the app glitched out and wouldn’t pick up Lincoln’s phone, or he dropped it in a stream on some hiking trail and was screwed out of a phone until he got back to DC. Nobody else overheard the phone call. Nobody else needed to know.

Clarke met Lexa’s eyes. She looked over at Raven for a second, still sitting on the bed, scrolling through her own phone. If Anya realized Raven had anything to do with it, intentional or not, there’d be hell to pay. Lexa knew that. Clarke knew that. Raven would be a dead woman once they got back to DC anyways. Anya would find out about the pictures from Lincoln eventually and hunt her down; that was, of course, if Lincoln ever spoke to either of his sisters again.

Clarke’s look begged Lexa to cover for Raven, begged Lexa to trust Clarke as much as she did before the phone call came through. Anya caught the shift in Lexa’s focus, looking between her sister and Clarke. She didn’t need to be awake to know Lexa had been lying about what happened with Clarke.

“I doubt it.” Clarke’s shoulders dropped at Lexa’s answers, relief washing over her knowing she didn’t have to prepare for another fight with Anya.

Raven froze on the bed, placing her phone down on the blanket and backing away from it. Lexa guessed Octavia left a less than loving comment on one of the pictures or videos Raven posted, maybe a vague threat using Raven’s own tools against her if the group got within twenty miles of wherever she and Lincoln were.

“We haven’t heard from either of them since last night.” Clarke added. All Raven had to do was keep quiet about the pictures. Clarke and Lexa could keep the phone call between the two of them, just like everything else that happened in Memphis.

Anya accepted the answer without question. She nodded at Clarke and stepped towards her, brushing past her and opening the door. Lexa checked her pockets, making sure Raven’s key was still on her; knowing Anya, she considered stealing Xena and heading out on her own, even without any idea where the couple headed. She might decide to just continue the manhunt on foot, hitchhiking her way across the rest of the country and back if she had to.

“Where are you going?” Lexa questioned before Anya could get out of the room.

“To get drunk,” Anya called back. “Very, very drunk.”

“There’s not even a bar around here.” There wasn’t much of anything around the hotel; an empty field stretched out across the street from the hotel, a truck stop further down the road right off the highway.

“I don’t need a bar. I’ll find a liquor store and a curb.”

“I’ll help you out with that one, Cheekbones.” Raven climbed off the bed, joining Anya at the door. The pair headed out, slamming the door behind them, leaving Lexa and Clarke free to let out the shaky breaths they held in since walking into the room.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Clarke sat on the foot of the bed. “Telling them the truth or letting them go out without one of us to drag them back here.”

“Raven already knows,” Clarke looked at Lexa while she leaned against the dresser. “Something on her phone freaked her out. I figured it was the pictures.”

“Thank you,” Lexa knew what she meant; for not throwing Raven under Anya’s rage fueled bus. For not tossing Clarke out with her for knowing about the phone call. For trusting her enough to go along with her lie and buy them more time to figure out what to do next. “Seriously though, should we do something about them?”

Lexa shrugged. They’d probably get on each other’s nerves before they found their treasured bar or liquor store, turn around and try to drag her and Clarke out with them. How much trouble could they even get into? Anyone in town would probably realize they weren’t from there, find the hotel keys in their pockets, and send them back in the right direction; that was how small towns were supposed to work, right?

“Things can’t get any worse than they are now, right?”

“Actually, yes,” Clarke sighed as she dug through her and Raven’s bags, dumping half of the contents across the top of the bed. “Raven left my shampoo at the last hotel. After she’d been stealing it the entire trip. Feel like making a supply run?”

“Too good for hotel shampoo, Clarke?”

Clarke rolled her eyes as she stood from the bed. She crossed over to Lexa, backing her further against the dresser. One of Clarke’s hands crawled up to Lexa’s shoulder, pushing her back until the corner of the mini-fridge dug below Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa gripped the edge of the dresser, eyes squeezed shut as Clarke’s free hand slipped into the back pocket of her jeans.

“You might want to breathe, Lex.” Lexa opened her eyes. Clarke dangled Raven’s keys in front of her face before walking towards the door, grinning at Lexa over her shoulder as she walked outside. Lexa stared up at the ceiling, taking a few deep breaths before even thinking about following Clarke. She bit her lip; staying in the hotel room might be the safest thing to do. At least there she could be alone and not make a fool out of herself in front of Clarke. Again.

 

“You’re going to tip that stupid thing over,” Clarke warned as Lexa flew past her down the shampoo aisle, clinging to the shopping cart Clarke insisted they grab when they walked in.  Lexa turned at the end of the aisle, passing Clarke again as she scanned the shelf in front of her. “Lexa, I swear, if you crack your skull open, I will ignore all of my first aid training and leave you here.”

“Come on, Clarke. The cereal aisle is calling my spirit.” Lexa darted up and down the aisle a few more times. If it didn’t annoy Clarke so much, it might not have been as entertaining. Each time Lexa passed, Clarke looked away from the shelf, staring up at the fluorescent lights as if some divine being would save her from Lexa’s antics.

“I need your spirit to stay where it is.”

“Just pick one already.” It’s not like it was a life or death decision. All she needed was a single bottle that would last her and Raven a few more days until they got back to DC. Once they got back home, Clarke could stand in front of a shampoo display for two hours for all Lexa cared.

Lexa watched as Clarke picked two bottles of Herbal Essences up, comparing the backs of the bottles. If Clarke put this much effort into last minute emergency shampoo, she could only imagine how intensely she focused on her lecture notes, or when she got too invested in one of her paintings. Real paintings, that is, not ones involving Raven’s head and their apartment walls; ones where Clarke found some kind of inspiration, in the sunset backed farmlands they passed on the road, the clusters of trees that popped out of nowhere before fading back into empty plains, of herself and Lexa barely illuminated by the headlights of the cars passing them.

The foot Lexa perched on the bottom of the shopping cart slipped, the empty car shooting out from under her towards the opposite end of the aisle. Lexa caught herself, straightening and folding her arms across her chest; Clarke turned, seeing Lexa’s attempt to look casual while the cart rammed into a basket of multi-colored mesh sponges.

“Seriously?”

 

Lexa followed Clarke around the store, officially stripped of her duty as cart pusher. They ran through the list they made in the car, trying to pull together a few of the essentials they’d need to make it back home: cheap blankets and pillows for them to push through the nights and not have to stop at as many hotels, an extra phone charger, a pile of likely terrible movies dug from the bottom of the five dollar clearance bin.

“Me and Raven did this when we drove from Wisconsin to DC,” Clarke mentioned as they circled towards the grocery side of the store. “Raven used to drive this junky pick-up truck, so we tossed all of our stuff in the bed and made the drive out there. Took us two days and a night sleeping in a truck stop parking lot, but it beat the alternative.”

“What was the alternative?”

Clarke tossed pack of trash bags into the cart; whatever the alternative was back then, it must have pissed her off enough to still bother her years later.

“My mom wanted me and Raven to drive my car down while she took Raven’s truck,” Clarke led them past the aisles of frozen foods, turning down the one with all the drinks. “She was worried about Raven driving fourteen hours, even though it had been a year since the accident. But mostly because she wanted to use it as an excuse to talk to me about Dad before I locked myself up in my dorm.”

“Did she get mad?”

“She showed up at our dorm three hours after us. Raven hid in the bathroom when she showed up. She got stuck sitting in the empty bathtub with an unpopped bag of popcorn listening to us argue for two hours.”

Lexa pulled a pack of Gatorades off the shelf, remembering what Clarke told her back in Memphis about not making up with her mother until the summer after her first year. All the yelling between the two that day being for nothing, almost like Anya’s arguing with Indra over taking care of Lincoln and Lexa. To Clarke, the fight still mattered, proof that years hadn’t been enough time to stop herself from holding resentment towards her mother for her father’s death; Lexa wondered how long it would take herself to even consider speaking to their mother again, let alone hear out her reasons for leaving and not write them off as excuses.

“So you and Raven survived a road trip together already?”

“Survived in the loosest sense of the word,” Clarke replied, adding a few cans of Arizona tea to the cart and moving to the next aisle. “Raven slept with a tire iron in her arms. I woke up early, went to use the bathroom at the Subway in the truck stop, and came back to her swinging at my head when I tried to open the door.”

“In her defense, couldn’t you have stopped somewhere a little safer than a truck stop?”

“We wanted the real road trip experience. Sleeping in the car, making little stops along the way,” Lexa rolled her eyes as Clarke dropped a box of frosted animal crackers in the cart. “Okay, and we were broke high school graduates who rolled up to their dorm with two dollars in change we dug from between the seats.”

Clarke went on about the trip as they picked up more food along the way. Besides nearly knocking Clarke’s brain out, Raven managed to lose an entire box of her and Clarke’s clothes after trying to take a shortcut through a field that led to the next stretch of highway they needed to cross, the two only realizing the box was missing when they unpacked in their dorm, both suddenly short a few bras and pairs of socks. Raven also took it upon herself to stop at the firstm a probably illegal, fireworks stands, nearly draining the guy who owned it of his inventory, solely for the sake of "celebrating move in day with a boom." Not all of the trip’s mishaps landed on Raven’s shoulders; after a few minutes of begging and a promise of a box of Pop Tarts, Clarke revealed that it had been slightly her fault that they wound up driving north towards Grand Rapids, Clarke giving directions while holding the map upside down for more than a few hours. Lexa groaned, wondering how they survived so many days with Clarke giving Raven directions again from the front seat.

Lexa stopped dead in her tracks once she found the cereal aisle, Clarke ramming the shopping cart into the back of Lexa’s ankles as she stopped walking. Brushing the hit off, Lexa inched down the shelves, only stopping once she found the two foot section of Cap’n Crunch. She knelt down, eyes scanning the different boxes perched in front of her.

“Are you really taking this long to pick a box of cereal?” Clarke asked, returning from the opposite end of the aisle, her victory Pop Tarts in hand. “After you judged me for taking forever to pick shampoo?”

“This is an important decision, Clarke.” This wasn’t just cereal they were talking about, this was Lexa’s lifeline. Too many of Lexa’s days had been saved by a bowl of cereal, giving her the energy to not punch a student that wouldn’t shut up in Professor Nyko’s lectures or keep up with Anya during a night of bar hoping. It also had a little to do with the fact that Lexa’s culinary skills barely stretched past boiling water and having the common sense to pour the cereal in the bowl before the milk; Clarke didn’t need to know that part though.

“Lexa, pick a damn box so we can go.”

“Stop pressuring me, Clarke.”

“We don’t even have milk, why are you bothering with cereal anyways?”

“Is eating cereal dry not a thing in Wisconsin?”

Clarke threw her hands in the air in defeat, slumping against the shopping cart in frustration. Lexa narrowed her options down, a box of peanut butter flavored Cap’n Crunch in one hand, Crunch Berries in the other. Both stocked the kitchen cabinets back home, her inability to choose present even when Clarke wasn’t staring at the back of her head.

“This is ridiculous. I’m walking to the registers. If you aren’t there with your cereal by the time I pay, I will leave you here.”

Clarke walked out of the aisle, taking the cart with her. She could have voiced her opinion before leaving; Lexa would have considered it, more than she considered Anya’s usual suggestions of some healthy, less sugar filled cereal. Clarke made a better shopping partner than either of her siblings; where Lincoln spent half of their trips in the produce section alone, Clarke steered them past it, claiming the raisins in a bag of trail mix were enough of a fruit to hold them over until they made it back home. Anya wouldn’t have warned Lexa that she was leaving, just driving off once her patience wore thin.

 

“Lexa, no.” Clarke answered immediately, seeing Lexa heading towards the line at the register with both boxes of cereal in hand. The guy in front of Clarke, arms filled with enough bottles of alcohol to keep Raven and Anya happy for the rest of the trip, turned to stare at them. He laughed as Clarke crossed her arms, glaring at Lexa as she put the boxes in the cart.

“Four people can’t share one box.”

“Don’t act like you care about sharing,” Clarke pulled both boxes out. “You get one.”

“I’m buying you Pop Tarts. Let me have my damn cereal.” Lexa snatched at the boxes, Clarke pulling them just out of reach.

“Why would you even want peanut butter and berries at once? That’s disgusting.”

“Then don’t eat any. You already said it’s weird without milk.”

The guy with the alcohol loaded his bottles onto the belt, placing the plastic divider behind them. Lexa grabbed the boxes from Clarke and pushed them onto the belt, tossing the rest of their things up behind them. As Lexa reached for a packet of gummy worms Clarke picked out for Raven, the boxes fell back into the cart.

“What kind of person eats a box of cereal without milk? Let alone two?”

“I do,” Lexa slammed the boxes back on the belt, the corner of one crumpling at the force. The alcohol guy coughed to cover up his laugh as the cashier rang his bottles up, the woman smiling at she overheard the pair. “Anything else you’d like to judge me for?”

“You snore,” Clarke pushed the boxes back towards Lexa’s chest. “Now put one back.”

Lexa sighed. Clarke had the car keys and the full authority to leave her there in the middle of Oklahoma. She handed Clarke the box of Crunch Berries, pretending she didn’t see the smile of victory as she retreated to put the other box back.

By the time Lexa returned, the guy in front of them had finished paying, balancing the bags on his arms while the cashier started ringing up the supplies for the trip. Clarke watched the total on the screen while Lexa leaned against the cart, checking her phone for any signs of crisis from Anya and Raven, the pair still silent so far.

“You two are cute together,” The cashier commented, scanning Lexa’s hard fought box of cereal. Lexa dropped her phone in the cart at the observation, wondering whether Clarke was laughing more at her or that the cashier legitimately thought they were a couple. “Are all of your fights that entertaining?”

“When this one feels up to it,” Clarke slid her arm around Lexa’s waist, kissing her on the cheek. Lexa fumbled the phone in her hands again. “Isn’t that right, Lex?”

“Sure, Clarke.” Lexa replied, trying to breathe like she hadn’t just come back from one of her runs, the tightness in her chest worsening as Clarke’s fingers dug into her hip as she talked to the cashier. Why did she have to go along with this? Who cared if some small town cashier thought they were a couple because they fought like one? All Clarke had to do was so no, pay for their things, and leave; no, leave it to Clarke to drag things out to the point where she started playing with Lexa’s hands wrapped around the handle of the shopping cart.

Clarke finished paying, practically having to push Lexa along with the cart back outside. Her skin still burned where Clarke’s lips met her cheek, the weight of Clarke’s hand on her hip still heavy, even though Clarke long since abandoned holding her close, turning to load their bags in the car instead.

“What was the point of that?” Lexa asked, finally finding her voice again as she crawled in the passenger seat. Clarke shrugged, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking space.

“Maybe she’d think we were a cute enough couple to give us a discount,” They paused at a stop sign, the sound of the turn signal clicking filling the car. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

If Clarke was playing a game, she damn well knew how to play it. Every time they wound up alone together, she pulled the rug out from Lexa. Their conversations felt backwards, starting with the family details too personal to talk about with the people they lived with, ending with the teasing fights just to press each other’s buttons. Maybe with the Lincoln and Octavia situation looming over their shoulders, Clarke had given up on her “not yet” stance. If Clarke was okay with it, then Lexa could be too.


	11. Amarillo, Texas

At the hotel, Clarke and Lexa retreated to their separate rooms. Lexa settled into the single bed, unable to sleep. Anya and Raven hadn’t turned up while they were gone. Knowing them, they were probably in jail the next county over for public intoxication. Between the missing Wondertwins and Clarke, Lexa would never get any sleep.

They still had to make it back to DC somehow. With Raven and Anya potentially missing, or likely too hung over to drive the next day, that left Lexa and Clarke to toughen up and take the wheel for most of the day. That’d mean another hotel, or finding a way to get four people sleeping comfortably in a car they couldn’t even ride in without their knees tucked under their chins, someone’s suitcase or a toolbox under their feet. Once Raven came back to her senses, she and Clarke would probably pick up their game of trying to stop by every cheesy roadside attraction. Maybe now that they weren’t racing against time trying to catch up to the couple, they could afford a few spots. If their cover was blown, they might as well enjoy the rest of the trip before they got back to DC and faced the wrath of a pissed off brother and roommate.

It wouldn’t be without consequences. Lincoln would be mad, if he did bother returning to the apartment. No doubt Octavia would be mad at Clarke and Raven as well, the three of them more of a close knit family than Lexa and her siblings were. The couple might have split up, the stalking sparking a fight between them that ruined whatever they had left of the trip. Lexa didn’t want to carry around that guilt, knowing she was responsible for her brother losing someone who made him happy. But if the two stayed together and held enough anger, they might make an active effort to make sure the group was never in the same room again. No visits to the apartment to marvel at Clarke and Raven’s artwork. No more watching Raven and Anya argue or try to outdrink each other. No Clarke acting like she was dating Lexa. No Clarke actually dating Lexa either.

Three knocks on the door drew Lexa out of her thoughts. Probably Anya, too drunk to figure out how to use the key card reader; she already had enough trouble with it when they got to the hotel, when she was completely sober. Lexa didn’t care how wasted Anya was, she wasn’t giving up the bed in their room to her. She spent all of the last night in the hotel getting kicked and shoved to the edge of the mattress, Anya sprawled out like a starfish under the blankets. Depending on how heavily she and Raven had been drinking, Lexa might leave her in the bathtub with a few sheets and a pillow; the less mess she had to deal with in the morning, the better.

The knocking on the door turned to frantic pounding. The door shaking in the frame solidified Lexa’s suspicion; leave it to Anya to get mad that Lexa didn’t answer the door fast enough at three in the morning. She flicked the bedside lamp on, dragging a hand through her hair as she answered the door.

Instead of Anya in a drunken haze, Clarke stood in front of Lexa; her hair slipped out from the hood of her sweatshirt as if she threw it on in a hurry, still wearing the same pair of shorts she’d been sleeping in since the first hotel. One hand carried a change of clothes, the other clutched one of the hotel pillows. Lexa rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the dim light in the hallway.

“Anya and Raven are having sex on my bed. Can I stay with you?”

Lexa blinked a few times, thinking she misheard Clarke. Either way, she stepped to the side, letting Clarke walk into the small hall near the bathroom. How did they both end up in the room next to hers without making a single sound?

“What are you talking about?”

She closed the door behind her, making her way back to the line bed in the room. Clarke flopped against the mattress, burying her face in the sheets for a few seconds. She rolled onto her back and looked over at Lexa, standing by the TV.

“I was finally asleep, and then the door opens and I hear Raven talking. She does that all the time, gets really drunk, comes in your room, and starts having a full conversation with you while you’re unconscious.”

Anya did the same thing to Lexa and Lincoln. One night she kept walking back and forth between their rooms, complaining that the other wouldn’t answer them, getting more upset each time she opened their doors. Lexa only got her to stop when she propped her desk chair against the door, forcing Anya to spend the rest of the night whining to Lincoln that Lexa locked her out and was the worst sister she ever had. Lincoln installed a lock on his bedroom door the next afternoon, glaring at Lexa with dark circles under his eyes.

Clarke sat up, pulling her legs under the sheets. Lexa’s sheets on Lexa’s hotel bed that Lexa did not intend on sharing that night. She planned on offering Clarke the chair on the other side of the room near the window once she finished her story, but clearly Clarke had other plans.

“Raven kept talking and the bed moved next to me. Except Raven’s voice was coming from the other side of the room. I look over my shoulder and your sister was next to me on top of the covers. And then a second later Raven was on top of your sister on top of my covers.”

“Clarke, please stop saying ‘sister’ and ‘top’ in the same sentence.” Lexa mumbled, climbing back in the bed, desperately trying to erase the mental image. Lexa slid under the covers, turning on her side to face Clarke.

“Sorry, but I’m scarred. I could smell whiskey on them. And sweat,” Lexa groaned, pulling the sheet over her head. This was not how she wanted to imagine spending the night with Clarke, in bed together talking about Anya and Raven in the next room over. “Then the bed started bouncing, and I tried to get out, but the sheet was still tucked in on my side and I got trapped. Lexa, they started moaning. Like ridiculous, over the top, drunken moaning, and I don’t know who was causing it because I grabbed my pants and ran.”

Clarke exhaled as she finished speaking. Lexa laughed, still buried under the blankets; mostly because the image of Clarke running down the hall, pants and pillow in hand, was priceless, but also because she feared that if the room got quiet enough, they would hear the activities going on in the next room.

“It’s not funny,” Clarke pulled the covers off of Lexa’s face. Her laughs faded after a few seconds. Clarke seemed to grin at the situation, the initial shock of nearly being dragged into a threesome wearing off. “I am going to need serious counseling to get over this.”

“You can be my first client when I get certified. Until then, I’m just going to be glad they got in your room and not mine.”

“You’re terrible,” Clarke nudged Lexa’s leg with her foot under the sheets. “Goodnight, Lexa.”

Clarke rolled over, her back towards Lexa. Lexa reached over to the bedside table, flicking the light off, hoping a repeat of Clarke’s experience wouldn’t come crashing through her door anytime soon.

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

 

Lexa never slept the full night, a habit of hers from home that the hotel only made worse. Something about the unfamiliar feel of the sheets, the awkward positioning of the furniture in the room, the stale smell of the air, kept her from falling and staying asleep. Even at home she would find herself waking up, tossing and turning for a few minutes before falling back asleep for a few more hours.

This time, Lexa woke up without the rolling around. She stared at the ceiling, lying flat on her back, her right arm dangling off the edge of the bed. She felt around for her phone, hand coming up empty as it grazed the table next to her. As Lexa moved to sit up and look around, a weight kept her pinned to the bed.

Clarke’s head fell on Lexa’s shoulder, blonde hair splayed over her shirt. Lexa could feel Clarke’s soft, even breaths on the skin of her collarbone. Lexa froze; one of Clarke’s arms was thrown across Lexa’s stomach, her fingers curled around the edge of her shirt. If she even breathed wrong, Clarke might wake up and find Lexa staring. Finding her phone became the least of her worries. Hell, finding Lincoln and Octavia caused less stress than figuring out a way to get out from under Clarke without waking her up.

Clarke shifted in her sleep, her grip on Lexa’s shirt tightening. Clarke’s knuckles dragged across the skin of Lexa’s stomach while she nuzzled closer to Lexa’s neck, still completely unaware of the panic washing over Lexa. As Clarke stilled, Lexa rested her palm on her forehead. One of them had to be rested enough to drive; Anya and Raven would be too miserable to even drag out of bed, Lexa would probably stay up the rest of the night worrying about disturbing Clarke. If having one person able to drive them back meant Lexa had to bite the bullet and let Clarke sleep on top of her, she would. Lexa closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep, careful to not move an inch.

 

Sunlight streamed through the hotel window, the thick green curtains and plastic shades doing nothing to block out the light. Lexa groaned as the light filled the room, even with her back to the window. Lexa breathed in, trying to will herself to get out of bed and shower, knowing another long day of driving lay ahead of her. Instead of the dull smell of moth balls and generic laundry detergent, the scent of coconut filled her nose. The same coconut she’d seen in the basket of the shopping cart the night before on Clarke’s bottle of shampoo.

Lexa opened her eyes to a mess of blonde hair on the pillow next to her, Clarke’s back pressed against her chest. It couldn’t get any worse than this, Lexa thought. She tried to move the arm not sandwiched under her pillow, only to find it trapped. Clarke’s fingers tangled with Lexa’s, her other arm wrapped across Lexa’s, pulling the limb to her chest. Lexa felt like an oversized teddy bear, trapped in Clarke’s arms as she slept.

Their legs twisted together under the blanket, Lexa unable to tell her own limbs from Clarke’s. One of them had to initiate this. Lexa blamed Clarke; she already stole her bed, used Lexa as her personal pillow, now wrapping Lexa around herself like a blanket. But if Clarke woke up and found Lexa still curled around her, all the responsibility would shift to her.

A flash of light filled the room; too bright to be the sun coming through the window, too early for any cars in the parking lot to be driving with their headlights on. Another flash, followed by a shutter snapping, soft laughter coming from the foot of the bed.

“Hurry up, they’re going to wake up.

“Oh, this is priceless. You owe me twenty bucks, Cheekbones.”

“Can it, Grease Monkey, you’ll get your money.”

Lexa bolted upright, yanking her arms out of Clarke’s embrace. Clarke fell back on the mattress, propping herself up on her elbow as she rubbed at her face. Lexa’s vision blurred for a few seconds. As her eyes focused, Raven came into view, standing next to the TV, phone held out in front of her face. Anya sat at the foot of the bed, smirking as she twirled her phone in her hand. They looked too sober for this; either Clarke severely overestimated how much they had to drink, or their chance to mock Clarke and Lexa sobered them up faster than any remedy could.

“Oh Lex,” Anya taunted, holding the phone out towards Lexa. A picture of her and Clarke, both sound asleep, all smiles as they curled together under the sheets, filled the screen. Anya pulled the phone back, the soft “click” as it locked echoing through the room. Lexa felt Clarke looking over her shoulder, backing towards the headboard and pulling the blankets up to her chin as Anya pulled the phone away. “What did I tell you about lying to your big sister?”

 

Anya and Raven could have held their interrogation on the drive back to DC. Lexa would have allowed it, hell, even begged for it. But Raven, insisting that the plan she and Anya came up with somewhere between their fourth and fifth round of shots, refused to listen, dragging the group out of the hotel and back on the road through Texas.

“We’re wasting our time driving out there.” Lexa argued, trapped in the backseat with Anya. Her and Raven insisted on stopping in New Mexico; the last place they tracked Lincoln and Octavia to before they lost contact sat on the outskirts of a state park, complete with scattered lakes and springs that the couple wouldn’t dare to pass up, especially after driving that far from DC. Even if the couple did stop there and spent a whole day hiking through the hills or swimming, the group would never find them over acres of land.

“You’re just mad that we broke up your little cuddle session.” Anya stretched her arm behind Lexa, pulling her across the seat until they sat hip to hip.

“For the hundredth time, we did not plan it.” Clarke replied, sitting next to Raven in the front seat. Neither had eased up on their mocking of finding the two wrapped up in Lexa’s bed. Anya had paid her debt to Raven using the money from Lexa’s wallet. Turns out the two made their bet as they left the hotel and stumbled upon a bar a mile up the road; Anya insisted that Lexa would be the little spoon, claiming she hard the sound of a whip cracking every time Lexa looked at Clarke.

“You just happened to wind up in the other room? Tripped and fell under the blankets and straight into Lexa’s toned, tattooed arms?” Raven questioned. Clarke shrank further into the passenger seat and pulling her hood over her face.

“Are we not going to bring up the fact that you two practically had sex on top of me?” Clarke’s words came muffled through her sweatshirt.

“Princess, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anya answered, arm still wrapped around Lexa’s shoulder. “We woke up fully clothed and only mildly hungover.”

What if Clarke lied? Made up some story about Anya and Raven barging in just to have an excuse to go into Lexa’s room? If she was okay with faking being a couple to save a few dollars, who knows what else she might have been able to lie about to get what she wants. Not that any of them would catch Lexa complaining if the thing Clarke wanted was her.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s this giant hickey on Raven’s neck?” Clarke reached over, finger pointed at the undeniable bruise at the base of her throat. She swatted Clarke’s hand away, grumbling an excuse about falling asleep on her hand.

“Can we focus on driving? Specifically back in the direction of DC?” Lexa begged, pushing Anya off of her. Four people could not cover enough ground at a state park known for camping and hiking to look for two people, not at the peak of summer when everyone and their families would be shoveling into RVs and tents before the desert got too hot to enjoy. That’s even if Lincoln and Octavia stopped there for the day.

“Maybe,” Raven said, pulling the car into an exit lane. “But first, Slug Bug Ranch.”

 

They pulled over on the side of the road, Raven cutting off the engine and taking off under the faded motel and café sign. She paused as Clarke followed, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her towards a line of graffiti covered Volkswagen frames sticking out of the ground. Their incriminating picture taking resumed, Raven snapping a picture of Clarke kneeling in front of a car, the name “Ray” and a smiley face sprayed on the door of a car in bright yellow paint.

While Lexa and Anya trailed behind, Anya taking a few pictures of her own, Lexa heard Clarke chattering with Raven about the patterns on each car. Raven nodded as Clarke rambled about the layers of color on each car, the original faded yellow coat of paint still visible under countless names, shapes, and figures sprayed onto every inch of the metal bodies.

“Come with me.” Raven grabbed Anya by the hand, dragging her across the field towards the abandoned gas station building further down from the cars. For two people who did absolutely nothing in the other hotel room that night, Anya followed a little too willingly, especially when it was Raven leading the way.

“Hands above the waist, Raven!” Clarke called as the pair passed her. Raven dropped Anya’s hand, holding her hands in the air as they walked a few feet further. The two latched onto each other again, Anya pushing Raven in the arm, catching her when she stumbled and keeping a hand wrapped loosely around her waist.

“You know I wasn’t lying about last night with them,” Clarke and Lexa walked over to one of the cars, the door painted with a purple and blue galaxy swirled across it, splatters of green and white paint forming mini constellations in the darkness. “I probably should have warned you. I kind of turn into a koala when I sleep. Raven knows from firsthand experience.”

“It’s not the worst way I’ve woken up,” Lexa kneeled down in the dirt to take a picture of the car. Through the dirt and rust covering the bottom of the door, a small forest of trees could be seen under the painted sky. Clarke took a few pictures herself, her fingers swiping away some of the dirt covering the trees. “One time a girl woke me up to go pick up her friend’s car that got towed the night before.”

“Very funny.” Clarke stood, dusting the dirt off her knees. She held her hand out to Lexa, pulling her to her feet. Clarke moved onto the next car, Lexa’s hand still wrapped around hers. Every car boasted a different piece of art: one was littered with people’s names, sprayed in different colors and handwritings, illegible as they scrawled across one another. Lexa wondered who wrote them, if random passersby in the middle of the night jumped out of cars and signed their names, or if a group of artists came out every few months to put a new coat of paint on each car.

Each car took them at least five minutes to pass by. Clarke covered every inch of the car: the thin strip of metal running between the door and where the windshield once sat, the bigger pieces covering the roofs, even the floor boards and seats that remained in a few, just as marked as the outsides of the cars. At the rate she was going, Clarke’s phone memory would be filled with pictures of the cars from every angle, including ones that caught Lexa in the background, or blocking the view of the graffiti completely. Clarke posed Lexa in front of the car she called her twin, a twisting black tribal design running from the handle to the empty window frame; Lexa stood sideways, her right sleeve rolled up, uncovering the tattoo wrapped around her arm.

“I’d love to do something like this back home,” Clarke mused, the two winding up at the car with the trees and galaxy again. “Just sit outside, draw something that isn’t a medical diagram from a textbook for once.”

If anyone understood working themselves to the bone, it was Lexa. Without being dragged on the trip by Anya, she would have sat in her room and polished up her resume and cover letter, scouring for internship opportunities throughout the city, anything to get her a step closer to becoming an actual counselor and not a perpetual grad student. Maybe they both needed the road trip to give themselves a break; now that the stress of constantly trying to follow Lincoln and Octavia faded away, it felt kind of nice, being on the road, stopping as they wanted, no longer worrying that Raven and Anya would kill each other for looking at each other the wrong way.

“I’ve heard worse ideas.” Lexa added. The pair made their walk back to the car across the street, their fingers still weaved together. They paused outside of the car; Lexa pressed her back against the door, propping her foot against the bottom panel. Raven would probably drive them straight to a car wash and make Lexa scrub every inch of dirt off of Xena for it.

 “That’s assuming we ever get home.” Clarke stood next to Lexa, tilting her head as she watched the gas station down the road, Anya and Raven still wandering around inside. Lexa bounced their hands back and forth, tapping the back of her hand against the car to pull Clarke’s attention from the building; let someone else be the one to walk in on whatever they were doing for once.

“It takes as long as it takes.” For a second, Lexa allowed herself to live in the moment; no cross country trip hunting Lincoln down, no worrying about where they would sleep next, or when they would turn back and head home to their own apartments. She took a deep breath, the underlying scent of dirt carried by the breeze unlike anything back in DC.

Clarke rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder, her arm wrapping around Lexa’s as they watched people across the street marvel at the painted cars. Her thumb traced the lines of Lexa’s tattoo through her shirt, as if she memorized the pattern completely in the rare moments she caught a glimpse of it. Maybe she shouldn’t have fought so hard against Raven and Clarke wanted to make random stops if they led to moments like this. They could always circle back to that damn bridge Raven wanted to see, waste a night at the drive in back in Tennessee that Clarke found out about two hours after they passed it. Heading home didn’t have to mean driving straight east; as long as someone could spring for a tank of gas, they could keep driving north, backtracking to head back south.

“Look what we have here,” Anya’s voice travelled across the road. “We leave you two alone and you’re all over each other. I need a hose or a spray bottle to keep you two apart.”

“You’re one to talk,” Lexa replied, tilting her head at Raven, trying to pull her hair back in a ponytail as she followed Anya; Raven handed the other woman her sunglasses without a word, Anya putting them back on. How Raven got her hands on them, Lexa didn’t want to imagine; Anya nearly chopped Lexa’s hands off the one time she borrowed them to go outside and wash her car. “Did any of whatever you two just did get the New Mexico idea out of your system?”

“It’s a perfect idea, so no.” Anya answered. “Besides, you’re looking like you wouldn’t mind staying on the road a few more days.”

Saying she wouldn’t mind would be a lie, one that Anya would see through entirely and spend the rest of the trip calling her out for. Actually, Anya probably already planned on bringing up catching her and Clarke together again every time she opened her mouth; if one of them asked to stop somewhere with a bathroom, she’d accuse them of sneaking off together for a quickie, one of them offers to buy the other a drink at the gas station, Anya would make it out to be a make shift proposal. As much as the idea of making the trip last a few more days appealed to Lexa, she wasn’t up for keeping with Anya’s original plan, especially if it would further irritate Lincoln if they found out the group kept on them.

“We can waste time driving back home. You can go stop at the Dolly Parton statue again for all I care,” Lexa challenged Anya, letting go of Clarke’s hand to square off with her sister. “We are not going to New Mexico.”

“Little Lex, my word is final,” Anya flicked the tip of Lexa’s nose. Behind them, Clarke and Raven snickered, exploding into full laughter as Lexa flinched, swatting at air long after Anya pulled her hand away. “Now get in the car. We’re going.”

Anya circled around the car, climbing in the front seat next to Raven. Clarke tugged at Lexa’s arm, holding the back door open for her.

“Let’s settle this like adults, Anya.” Lexa crawled into the seat behind Anya, leaning into the front of the car. Raven started the engine, pulling out onto the main road. She sat at the stop sign in front of the intersection; the potential path to Lincoln and Octavia to the right, home to the left.

“If you insist.”

 

“Damn it, Lexa,” Clarke groaned in the backseat, grabbing the box of cereal from Lexa’s hands and tossing it to Anya in the front seat. Lexa frowned; she had one good thing going for her as they drove through Texas, the box of solely in her possession. Clarke would have been another plus, but with Raven and Anya turning around to check on them like they were a couple of newborns bouncing around in car seats, she didn’t even bother trying to speak to Clarke again. A yellow “Welcome to New Mexico” sign loomed overhead, Anya making eye contact with Lexa through the rear view mirror, shoving a handful of her precious cereal in her mouth. “Why do you always pick paper?”


	12. Santa Rosa, New Mexico

New Mexico turned into a dead trail, surprising everyone except Lexa. The group pulled up to the dirt parking lot outside of Blue Hole, the one spot Anya insisted Lincoln and Octavia would have stopped at. Through the windshield, Lexa caught sight of the supposed genius location; a gnarled tree twisted out of the ground near a few stone steps, circling the rocky edges of the cliff. People jumped off the rocks, diving into the impossibly blue water and swimming back over to the edge.

“What a surprise,” Lexa drawled as she looked over each person in the water. Kids outnumbered the adults, most sitting at the picnic tables set up in front of the cars. “Lincoln’s not here.”

“Neither is O’s car.” Clarke added, turned around in the backseat looking out into the parking lot. Even if the pair started hiking up the hills behind the spring, they would have had to leave the car somewhere around there. But Clarke could count the number of cars there on both hands, none of them even close to Octavia’s.

Anya stepped out of the car, circling the edge of the parking lot. Instead of just admitting that Lexa had been right, she checked every car, as if one of the other tourists hanging around was hiding them in the backseat. Lexa got out of the car, following Anya before she started flashing her badge and demanding people open up their trunks for her to check.

“You know, you can admit it,” Lexa said as they walked near the steps, their search of the parking lot coming up empty. “I was right. You were wrong.”

“Shut up.”

“Did you really think they would stop for this?” Lexa gestured at the water below them as they continued their climb. From the corner of her eye, she saw Clarke and Raven following them up the steps. “A random hole in the ground? It’s not even a lake.”

Sure, it was something to see: clear blue water, bright green plants growing along the water’s edge, probably a decent view of the desert behind them once they reached the top. But it didn’t warrant them driving through the desert and stopping, not when there were a few bigger lakes surrounding Santa Rosa.

“Lexa, you shut your mouth.”

“Come on, Anya,” Raven called out behind them. “Be nice.”

“Stay out of this, Reyes.” The sisters passed a small perch stretching out over the water, one of the kids from the families at the tables jumping off of it. The kid landed in the water, popping to the surface next to one of the red buoys floating in the middle.

They wasted half a day driving out there. If they turned around now, they’d be passing through Elk City again by nightfall, probably stopping a town or two over if Clarke didn’t feel like taking over the wheel. Ten hours of driving just to end up a hundred miles back east, if they were lucky.

Anya stopped at the last tier of the steps, another diving platform extending beyond the knee high rock wall around the edge of the cliffs. Facing the fenced off area behind the wall, Anya kicked at the ground, pebbles scattering in every direction, hands laced on top of her head. She knew she messed up, that Lexa had been right about it not being worth the drive, but she wouldn’t admit it out loud.

Lexa sat on the platform, dangling her legs over the edge while Anya swore under her breath. As Clarke and Raven approached, she caught the tail end of their conversation; something about cereal and a shopping cart caught her attention. Lexa turned to look at the pair, Raven winking at Lexa before telling Clarke she wanted to check out a shack built on top of the hill behind the steps.

Footsteps fell behind Lexa. She looked up, Anya’s figure blocking the sun behind her. Anya dropped her hands, sighing as she looked out at the parking lot, as if hoping Octavia’s car would roll up so she could prove everyone wrong.

“What’s your next genius idea?”

“We keep driving.”

“Driving where?” Lexa waved her hands above her head. Maybe they’d hit another decent sized city in a few hours, cross over another state line and into Arizona. If they were lucky, Lincoln and Octavia would be heading the same way, not taking a sudden detour in the opposite direction. But if Lexa had been lucky, she would have still been in bed at home, not being dragged across the county. Or at least heading back home by now, enjoying the trip with Raven and Clarke, even Anya now that she bonded with Raven in ways nobody wanted to truly question.

Silence fell between the sisters, Anya probably scrambling to think of another place to drag the group out to based on a few random guesses. Everything could end right there; Lexa could tell Anya about the phone call, get creative and make sure she doesn’t realize Raven had anything to do with it, and convince her to let everyone head back home in one piece, Octavia and Lincoln included. Her plan stood a chance; Anya’s new found relationship with Raven might soften the blow if the truth slips out.

Clarke’s voice travelled behind Lexa, her and Raven drawing near the rock wall Anya sat on top of. The two settled next to her, their conversation ending.

“You know, this place isn’t half bad.” Raven said, a splash from someone jumping into the spring drowning out her words.

“Find anything in that shack?” Anya asked.

“Dirt. More dirt. Clarke stepped on a page of a porn magazine,” The group shared a laugh at Clarke’s expense. “Which reminds me. You’re going to need to take off your shoe before you get back in Xena.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, knowing Raven was only half serious about the shoe thing; she might make Clarke wipe it off with one of her grease soaked rags and water from the spring first. Raven’s passion about keeping Xena clean earned her a shove on the shoulder.

“Watch it, Griffin. Don’t want to send me falling off this cliff,” Raven looked over her shoulder at the water. “Unless Anya wants to come diving in after me.”

“In your dreams.” Anya replied, sitting next to Lexa on the platform.

“Oh, is that what was happening in the hotel room last night?” Lexa teased. Raven and Anya flushed red; Anya pushed her sunglasses further up her nose while Raven nearly snapped her neck turning around, the electrical pole behind them suddenly much more interesting than watching the people swimming below.

“You’re one to talk,” Anya bit back. “Hey Clarke, how’d it feel having Lexa drool on your shoulder all night?”

“I do not drool.” Okay, maybe she did once or twice. Usually only when she was completely exhausted and wound up sleeping comfortably through the night. Being dragged out of bed to pick up the car, driving through the night until they found the hotel, following Clarke around the grocery store did leave her drained of virtually all energy, only made worse by Raven and Anya throwing Clarke out of the room in the middle of the night. But the hotel bed was barely a step above the gravel in the parking lot and left her tossing and turning the entire night until Clarke sleeping on her shoulder kept her pinned down.

A phone being shoved in her face cut Lexa’s thoughts. Raven shook her head as she handed it to Lexa, the picture of her and Clarke tangled together already pulled up on the screen. All Lexa had to do was hit the delete button and Raven would have nothing against her. Except for the other thirty pictures minimum she probably had saved on her camera roll and already synced to her cloud, if their trip to Dinosaurland was any indicator of how dedicated Raven was to documenting embarrassing moments of her friends’ lives. Plus Anya probably had just as many, stashed her own folder of incriminating evidence. Lexa glanced back at the picture; a patch of Clarke’s sweatshirt held a darker shade of grey, right next to Lexa’s mouth.

“Sure you don’t drool, Lex?” Anya laughed as Lexa handed Raven her phone back. That was the final nail in the coffin; she’d never be able to face Clarke again, not even for the rest of the trip home. A Greyhound bus terminal had to be nearby, anywhere she could get a ticket back to DC and avoid being tormented by Raven and Anya while Clarke realized how absolutely wrong any positive opinions she formed about Lexa were.

“Lexa’s adorable sleeping habits aside,” Clarke really needed to stop throwing those compliments about Lexa around so casually. Not even Lexa herself found her sleeping habits that endearing. “Can we figure out where we’re going next?”

“My vote’s for DC.” Lexa chimed in.

“Not that easily, party pooper,” Anya said. “We’re not going home until I’m dragging Lincoln through the door by his stupid excuse for a Mohawk.”

“Are you forgetting that we don’t know where they went?” Anya might have succeeded in drinking her memory of the night before away. Lexa reminded herself to thank Raven if that was the case. “They could be in Vegas getting married right now for all we know.”

Anya stiffened next to Lexa. Even Raven and Clarke stilled on the wall behind them. She meant it as an offhand comment, not an actual suggestion. But the more she played the situation over in her mind, the more it made sense. Leaving without telling anyone, avoiding all of their phone calls and texts, their sudden anger when they realized they were being followed; Lincoln and Octavia had the textbook definition of an elopement planned, making the whole thing into a romantic road trip with little stops planned before they slipped a pair of rings on each other’s fingers in the Little White Wedding Chapel.

“They wouldn’t be getting married,” Clarke tried to convince the group. “They’ve only known each other a few months, Octavia wouldn’t do something that-“

“Clarke, it’s Octavia,” Raven grabbed Clarke’s face, forcing them to look at each other. Fear shone in Raven’s eyes as she spoke. “In the years we’ve known her, when has she ever made a rational decision?”

“If she willingly lives with you two, obviously not many,” Anya snapped. She balled her hands into fists at her side; all the blame for the elopement laid on Octavia in Anya’s mind, and by extension, Raven and Clarke. Lexa enjoyed the peace while it lasted. By the time they reached the car, Anya would probably tear into them, accusing them of encouraging Octavia’s reckless ways and dragging their brother into her shenanigans, putting his relatively calm and sane life at risk. “We need to leave.”

Lexa rose from the platform, dusting bits of rock and dirt off the back of her legs. She and Anya led the group back down the path towards the steps.

“You don’t really think they’re getting married, do you?” Clarke asked, keeping pace behind Lexa. Lexa shrugged in response; between her and Clarke finding themselves closer every time they were left alone together, Anya and Raven’s refusal to admit they hooked up in the hotel, anything seemed possible. Finding out Lincoln and Octavia got hitched and spent the rest of the night getting drunk on the strip and gambling all their money away would be the least surprising outcome of the trip.

“For your sake, I hope not,” Anya grumbled. “Having Lexa and Lincoln as siblings is bad enough. I don’t need Octatonic as my sister-in-law.”

“Did they just casually teach you words like that in the police academy?” Raven yelled behind them, still stunned by Anya’s ability to use anything besides Octavia’s actual name.

“Anya, it can’t be that bad,” Lexa tried to ease her into the idea; whatever they could do to keep Anya from tearing Octavia in half once they found her was worth a shot. “Imagine how fun Christmas dinner will be with everyone all together.”

Was it an attempt to convince Anya or herself? Sharing the holidays with the group could have its perks, like a real dinner for once, taking place at a table and not on the living room couch. The Woods siblings hadn’t had a real Christmas since they left Indra’s house; Anya wound up working most of the time, picking up extra shifts at her old jobs or getting stuck patrolling on the holidays when she was still a rookie officer. Sitting around their apartment, spending the day in the kitchen making enough food to feed the small army Octavia and her roommates would bring, actually bothering to put up decorations around the apartment; it had a nice ring to it.

“Lexa.”

“Yeah, Anya?”

“Please shut up.”

Anya reached over, pushing Lexa off the exposed edge of the cliff, straight down into the water. Lexa hit the water, sinking below the surface for a few seconds. This was how it ended, miles away from DC, Clarke watching as she sank to the bottom of the spring, nobody jumping in after to save her. Nobody would heed her final wish of having “Blame Anya” engraved on her tombstone. Lincoln might not even come to her funeral, only showing up to spit on her grave and remind her spirit that none of this would have happened if they just left him and Octavia alone.

No, she didn’t sit through an entire summer of swimming lessons at seven years old for nothing. Not when she had too much to live for; another year of grad school, stopping Anya from killing their brother and potential sister-in-law, maybe one day a legitimate date with Clarke that wouldn’t be interrupted. Lexa twisted herself upright before swimming back to the top. One of the families in the water gawked at her; the two small kids swimming next to their parents were the only think keeping Lexa from throwing a string of swears towards Anya, still walking down the steps like nothing happened.

Lexa swam to the steps leading out of the water, Clarke running down to meet her there. Behind her, Raven caught up with Anya, mimicking a whip cracking as Clarke extended her hand to Lexa, pulling her out of the spring.

“You okay?” Clarke pulled her sweatshirt over her head, handing it over. Lexa flung her soaking shirt off with no hesitation, wringing the water out at her feet. Everything on her was soaked; jeans, socks, shoes, her wallet. Lexa pat her back pocket, her phone still there. Already expecting the worst, she pulled it out, the screen remaining black as she pressed every button on it. All her music that had been getting her through the trip, the pictures from the Slug Bug Ranch, all gone because of Anya.

Wolf whistles coming from the parking lot snapped her out of her mourning for her phone. Raven and Lexa leaned out of the windows, cat calling Lexa. It took her a few seconds to realize she was still standing there in only her sports bra and jeans, Clarke’s sweatshirt still in hand. And that Clarke was most definitely staring at her again.

“Lexa, you might want to…” Clarke trailed off, pointing at the sweatshirt, eyes still locked on the tattoo crawling up Lexa’s side.

“Right,” Lexa swallowed, pulling the shirt over her head. “Thank you, Clarke.” She mumbled before hurrying off to the car.

Lexa pulled her bag from the back of the car, swapping her jeans for a dry pair before Raven threw a fit about water on the interior. Everything wound up in one of the plastic bags from the grocery store, thrown behind the seats to be dealt with when they didn’t have a potential wedding to stop. Lexa slid in the backseat next to Clarke, tossing her phone turned paper weight into the cup holder between the seats.

“Buckle up, kiddos,” Lexa’s eyes widened in horror. Anya turned around in the driver’s seat, an all too excited grin plastered across her face as she started the engine. “We’ve got a stop to make before we hit Vegas.”

Lexa dropped her head between her knees as Anya sped off towards the highway. How Raven was sitting in the passenger seat not losing her mind over Anya’s driving stunned Lexa.

“We’re going to die.” Lexa mumbled to the floor, not daring to look out the window at the miles of desert flying by. A hand crawled up her back, rubbing back and forth between her shoulder blades. Lexa looked up between her hands, finding Clarke leaning over next to her; the frown on Clarke’s face shifted into a comforting smile as Lexa looked over at her. For a second, Lexa sighed a breath of relief, knowing she wasn’t the only sane one in the car; Raven might have caved and been convinced of Anya’s plan, trusting her enough to hand over the keys, but Clarke would be by Lexa’s side trying to keep the two grounded.

Relief was fleeting, Lexa realized, the car jerking to the side, sending her shoulder first into the door panel. Anya lay on the horn, screaming out the open window as she passed a minivan in the next lane. Clarke’s hand on Lexa’s back stilled as Anya spouted out a few choice insults about the driver for having the audacity to drive at the speed limit. Vegas was still a long ways out from New Mexico.

 

“I thought we agreed you would take it easy on Xena.” Raven yelled as Anya swerved around another car on the highway. Anya’s idea of “taking it easy” usually meant keeping a car under ninety and not starting any road rage induced fights at stop lights or in the middle of traffic jams. Judging by the grip Raven had on the roof handle and her constant peering over Anya to check her speed on the dashboard, the two had very different definitions of the term. If Raven only knew the havoc Anya could still manage to wreak in a Prius, she would have taken the keys back before they even left the parking lot back at Blue Hole.

Unlike Raven, Lexa’s panic over letting Anya be in control of a moving vehicle faded after a few miles. She’d survived years of riding with Anya to school or on errands, even learning how to drive stick from her older sister, much to the protest of Indra when she realized her car had been the one they used and destroyed the clutch on when Lexa just couldn’t get the hang of it. There had been an attempt to teach Lexa to ride a dirt bike when she was much younger; that story ended with multiple sets of stitches between Lexa and Lincoln, and Anya being banned from going anywhere with either of her siblings without their mother or father joining them.

By the time Lexa’s anxiety over riding in a car with Anya faded, Clarke had already gone into full blown protective mode. She lay across the backseat, letting Lexa lay on top of her, combing her fingers through the tangles formed in Lexa’s hair when Anya shoved her in the spring. With Raven and Anya too busy bickering about driving habits in the front seat, neither noticed Clarke running her fingers up Lexa’s back, or Lexa’s satisfied smirk as she milked the attention for as long as she could.

“Feel any better yet?” Clarke asked once Anya settled down, apparently out of innocent drivers to take her frustrations out on.

“Slightly,” Lexa lifted her head from Clarke’s chest, propping her elbow on the seat to hold herself up. “I saw my life flash before my eyes twice. Either her driving is that bad, or my life is that boring, I ran out of memories to play over.”

“Sounds like you need to fix that.”

“Does a cross country road trip with two strangers to stop a wedding count?” If it didn’t, she hated to think what would count as a legitimate adventure.

“I don’t know,” Clarke teased. “Have you really done much on the trip? Besides eat cereal and get thrown off of cliffs?”

Lexa frowned. The cereal eating lasted a whole twenty minutes, once Clarke threw her box to the vultures that were Anya and Raven, even taking a handful for herself despite there being no milk anywhere in the car. Not many people could say they got thrown off a cliff either; she could always change the details to make it sound more dramatic, a six story plunge into freezing waves on some exotic island instead of being shoved a couple of feet into a spring with a McDonald’s visible in the background. Acting like a couple with another woman in small town Oklahoma could be considered daring too, even if she had been too shocked to actually do anything and let Clarke build the whole story up.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Clarke took her silence for an answer. She cocked her head to the side, hand creeping up towards the back of Lexa’s neck. “What? Scared you might have fun?”

Lexa glanced towards the front seat; Anya actually focused on the road ahead and Raven was fully invested in changing the song playing on her phone every two seconds, neither of them paying any attention to her and Clarke.

“Of course not.” Lexa leaned against Clarke, capturing her lips between her own. Less questioning and more urgency than the kiss they shared in the stairwell. Clarke pulled Lexa closer to her with the hand still running through her hair, her other hand gripping Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa felt the corner of Clarke’s mouth quirk into a smile as they pulled apart, tilting their heads and pressing into one another again. Clarke laughed through the kiss, the slight exhales of breath through her nose tickling Lexa’s skin.

Lexa let herself lay on top of Clarke, no longer keeping herself propped on her elbow. Her hand trailed a path along Clarke’s side over her t-shirt. Clarke flinched as Lexa’s fingers reached the bottom of her ribcage; Lexa jerked her hand away, pulling back half an inch from Clarke’s face.

“Calm down,” Clarke looked up at Lexa; the lack of confusion in her eyes comforted Lexa. While she kept thinking the kiss at the hotel had been a mistake, she knew there that this was something they both wanted. Clarke tugged at the back of Lexa’s head. “I’m ticklish.”

Clarke tilted her head up, taking Lexa’s bottom lip between her teeth. She tugged at it lightly; if Lexa hadn’t already been lying on top of Clarke, she might have dropped her entire body weight on her, arms going numb and her mind going blank at the move. Lexa would gladly welcome any life flashing moments if this was one of the chosen highlights. No memories of state softball championships junior year or driving up to Philadelphia with Lincoln and Anya for a Joan Jett concert they were too young to get into would compare to this: Clarke running her hands down her own sweatshirt covering Lexa’s back, letting go of her lip and tracing it with the tip of her tongue. Lexa kept reminding herself to breathe before she blacked out completely.

“Not on my interior!” Raven screamed, seconds before Lexa was about to let Clarke deepen the kiss. “Bad Clarke! Bad Lexa! Get off each other!”

Something thwacked against Lexa’s back as she jumped off of Clarke, rolling on the floor of the car. A lone flip flop lay on top of the seat, a similar sized print probably marking Lexa’s back.

“Did you throw that at me?”

“Keep talking, Woods, I have another.” Raven spun around in her seat, flip flop in hand, watching as Clarke sat up in her seat and Lexa crawled off the floor, sitting next to Clarke. Raven pointed the shoe between them, threatening them to separate further. Once the two buckled their seatbelts and kept a solid foot of space between them, she turned back around.

“Out of everything in this car, you picked a shoe?” Anya asked, still looking at the road in front of them. Raven must have tipped her off about what was happening; how long did she sit there watching them before she intervened?

“Look, my mother might not have been around most of my life. But she still managed to teach me the fear striking capabilities of _la chancla_.”

“Quit acting like you know Spanish, Raven.” Clarke tossed the shoe turned weapon back at her friend. Raven caught it, smirking as she dropped both flip flops on the floor in front of her.

“I might not speak it, but my soul understands Spanish,” Clarke rolled her eyes at the comment. “Doesn’t matter. Still got you to stop before you defiled Xena’s seats.”

“Like she hasn’t already seen worse.”

“Clarke, why?” Lexa lifted her hands from the seat, propping her feet on her duffle bag on the floor. She didn’t need to know any context; judging by the stories she already heard, Clarke, Raven, or even Octavia could be to blame for whatever occurred in that back seat.

“Everyone just keep it in your pants for another twenty minutes, we’re almost there.” Anya announced. Geography had never been Lexa’s strong suit, but even she knew Vegas was not an hour outside of a New Mexico town so small they could have blinked at missed it had they not stopped in the middle of it. Clarke and Lexa shared equally confused looks across the backseat.

“Your math is a little off there,” Raven spoke for everyone, pulling up the GPS. “We’re a good eight hours out from Vegas, even with your driving skills.”

“We have a quick stop to make.” What else could they stop for? They filled up on gas when they left Santa Rosa, Lexa and Clarke stocked up on more than enough food to keep them covered until they got home, and the sun still shone overhead, so they definitely didn’t need a place to sleep for the night.

“As long as I don’t get shoved into another body of water.” Lexa mumbled. Clarke reached over to hit Lexa in the shoulder; Lexa caught her hand, holding it to her chest. A blush grew over Clarke’s face, no longer able to be concealed by the hood of her sweatshirt. Lexa laughed as Clarke tried to tug her hand back, Lexa’s grip tightening as she tried to pull Clarke across the seat, as far as the seatbelt would let Clarke move.

They sat close enough to kiss again. Lexa leaned to the side to close the last few inches between them when the soft sound of plastic hitting skin filled the car, louder than the rock music Raven finally settled on. She watched the pair, one of the flip flops clenched in her hand, smacking it against her palm, almost daring Clarke and Lexa to try and sneak past her again.

Lexa settled her and Clarke’s hands on the seat between them, in plain sight for Raven. She slid back across the seat towards the window, Clarke mirroring her, her free hand covered across her mouth to stifle her laugh. Raven nodded and turned around, fixing the mirror to keep a better eye on them, flip flop still in hand.


	13. Albuquerque, New Mexico Part 1

Raven’s adventure in chaperoning came to an end as Anya travelled off the main streets of Albuquerque, pulling into a small parking lot on the side of a bar. Halved logs marked the parking spots lining the building, a string of motorcycles parked around the corner. Paired with the two bald guys in leather vests walking out, climbing on two of the bikes, and driving off towards the sunset, Lexa expected some kind of “Breaking Bad” level drug deal to go down and drag them into the middle of it.

“You better have a good reason for bringing us here.” Lexa refused to move from her spot in the backseat. Partly because she didn’t feel like being involved in a bar brawl, mostly because Clarke still sat next to her holding her hand, looking equally terrified at the idea of getting out of the car.

“I’ve got some old friends in here,” Raven opened her mouth to speak, but Anya cuts her off before she gets the first word out. “And no, Reyes, it’s not Dolly Parton.”

“Well, now I’m disappointed.” Raven replied.

Anya climbed out of the car, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for everyone to join her. At least she wasn’t straight abandoning them. Raven glanced back at the building before popping open the glove compartment, slipping a wrench into her jacket pocket.

“You still have that switchblade she gave you in Tennessee, right?” Digging through her bag, Lexa pulled out the blade, tucking it in her back pocket. Raven nodded in approval. “Just in case.”

“You really think we might need to stab someone?” Clarke questioned. Lexa gave her a blank stare in return. “I know, it’s your sister, we probably will.”

“I take slight offense to that, Clarke,” Lexa said as the three climbed out of the car. “Us Woods siblings are usually calm, level headed people.”

Anya led the group up the small set of wooden steps on the bar’s porch. Two tables sat on the far end of the porch, a small group gathered around it with lit cigarettes and beers in hand, staring the group down. One of the women whispered in the ear of the man next to her, nodding towards Anya. He squinted, eyeing her up and down before whispering back to his partner. Either Anya didn’t catch on to the stares she earned, or she chose to ignore them.

Without warning, Anya planted her foot on the swinging door leading inside, kicking it wide open. Lexa had only seen her do it once before, and that hadn’t even been in person; Anya, Gustus, and a few other officers wound up on the evening news, helicopter footage showing them breaking the door of a fugitive’s apartment down before making an arrest. Their DVR in the apartment still had the episode, Anya insisting they keep record of it, even if the stunt got her chewed out by her chief for not following protocol.

“Guess who’s back, boys?” Anya hollered through the open door, catching it as it swung closed. Nearly every head at the bar whipped in her direction, the entire room falling silent besides the music playing in the background. The bartender broke the silence, putting down the mug he’d been cleaning with a rag.

 “Holy shit, it’s the General!” The room erupted into cheers as Anya stepped inside, half the people at the bar swarming around her. Anya wrapped her arms around a few of the patrons as they led her to a seat front and center.

“Calm and level headed, right?” Clarke asked as Lexa watched through the window, unable to pick her jaw off the floor. This had to be a dream, one of those exceptionally weird ones she got when she had a cold and mixed too many different medicines and slept the whole day. No way was she actually watching her sister be practically carried into a bar on the shoulders of a bunch of guys while they were in the middle of New Mexico.

“Please tell me we’re about to find out your sister is secretly the leader of a biker gang.” Raven said, practically skipping inside the bar.

“Oh god.” Lexa groaned, unable to even remotely process what just occurred in front of her.

“Come on,” Clarke took Lexa’s hand in hers again. As Lexa looked down at their hands, Clarke led them inside, nodding her head at a now empty booth in the corner. Raven managed to snag a seat next to Anya, one of the guys hanging off Anya’s shoulders already ordering a round of drinks for the seven or so people at the bar. “Our turn to baby sit now, I guess.”

 

Two hours after arriving at the bar, Lexa still had no idea why they were there or why nearly every person in the building came up to Anya at some point, clapped her on the shoulder, and bought her a beer or a shot, all looking way too thrilled to see her. She and Clarke holed up in their corner booth, only interrupted whenever the waitress stopped by to refill their drinks.

“Sure you don’t need something a little harder than that?” She asked as she placed another Coke in front of Lexa. “Vicente already told the General and her friend over there it’s on the house. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind throwing in an extra drink or two for you guys.”

Lexa shook her head while Clarke properly thanked the waitress. The woman walked back over to the bar, joining Vincente behind the bar, loading up another round of drinks. Lexa already lost count of how many Raven and Anya, or should she say the General, as everyone took to calling her, had downed, only knowing it would be enough to take them out of commission until they hit Vegas. Perfect timing; they’d wake up entirely hung over, find time to stop the wedding, then celebrate by getting drunk again at the blackjack tables in the closest hotel.

“You’re sure you have absolutely no idea why everyone is calling her the General?” Clarke asked for the third time that night. Nobody at the police station called her that. Lincoln and Lexa definitely didn’t call her that. Not even Indra used the name, leaning more towards ones that would sound completely appropriate with the bar crowd though.

“Positive.” Lexa clutched her drink as she watched Anya move from the bar to the abandoned pool table across the room, her flock of old friends migrating after her.

“It’s not her rank down at the station?”

“No, she’s a lieutenant.”

“Was she ever in the military?” Lexa shook her head as she held out her hand, ticking Anya’s past jobs off on her fingers.

“She’s been a waitress, a gas station graveyard shift manager, a cashier, a butcher,” Clarke gawked at Lexa, shocked that at any point in time someone actually paid Anya to swing around knives and stand around machinery with sharp blades. “Yeah, the butcher thing didn’t last long when she threatened to shove her coworkers head in the cheese slicer. Actually, that’s how she wound up demoted to cashier, stuck on the register farthest away from the deli.”

“That’s only slightly concerning.” Clarke didn’t need to know about the knife block in their kitchen. Or the entire drawer filled with various sized knives for “cooking purposes” as Anya explained when she pulled a meat cleaver out, thinking Lexa was a burglar when she came home from a late study session at the library at two in the morning.

“It’s Anya, are you honestly that surprised?” Really, Clarke should be surprised. Yet she sat in the booth, mostly unphased by the idea of Anya threatening to literally turn someone into head cheese. Either Clarke had seen her fair share of horrors living with Raven and Octavia, or she honestly believed that if Lexa said Anya wasn’t that bad, it would be the truth.

Raven might have been a better test of that theory. She drifted from the pack at the pool table, sliding into the booth across from Clarke and Lexa.

“Come on, Lexa. You couldn’t pick somewhere a little classier for a first date with Clarke?” Lexa choked on her soda, covering her mouth with her hand before she spat all over the table. Sitting in a bar trying to figure out how Anya knew any of these people wasn’t even close to being considered a date, even with Clarke sitting by her side. Lexa had better standards than that. Raven smirked as Lexa coughed and wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.

“Raven,” Clarke hissed, rubbing Lexa’s back as she remembered how to breathe again. “Knock it off.”

“I’m just looking out for you. I don’t need another elopement on our hands.”

“I’m more worried about you two,” Lexa replied. Even with a crowd of admirers surrounding her, Anya kept Raven by her side, usually with a hand on her thigh, especially when one of the guys got too close for comfort. “You’ve been over there all night. Who are all of these people?”

“Apparently it’s the crowd Anya used to roll with,” Raven narrowed her eyes as Lexa stared blankly at her. “You know, back when she lived out here?”

“Wait, she lived here?”

“How do you not know that your sister lived in New Mexico for two years?”

Lexa looked over at Clarke, both piecing the story together. Those two years just happened to sync up with the two years Anya went missing between her eighteenth birthday and their father passing away. So much for Missouri and Kentucky; while Lexa pictured Anya working in a Mom and Pop bait shop and sleeping in the hay loft of a friend’s barn, she rode around Albuquerque on the back of someone’s motorcycle, maybe even her own. It didn’t reveal much of how she knew these people or how they all recognized her after being gone for almost eight years, but it did explain her tendency to walk around in boots and leather jackets when she went out for the night.

“It’s a long story,” Lexa stated. “Clearly you’ve overheard a few things.”

“Like why they call her General.” Clarke seemed more worried about the backstory than she was about getting to Vegas.

“What I’ve gathered is Anya used to run around with the younger part of the crowd,” Most of the group looked around Anya’s age, minus a few older balding guys with women by their sides they probably referred to as their old ladies. “Her buddies looked up to the older guys, riding around all decked out in leather, starting bar fights every night, so they showed them the ropes. Anya must have been a natural because they left her in charge.”

“I can’t believe you called it.” Raven shrugged as Lexa acknowledged her small victory.

“That little one,” Raven pointed at one of the women standing next to Anya; she stood almost a head shorter than her, sipping from a beer bottle as Anya talked. “That’s Tris. Anya took her under her wing before she left. Turned her into a little fighting machine. The girl’s got a mile long arrest record.”

“And the guy that looks like he’s about to smash a bottle over her head?” The man in question stood on the other side of Anya; even under the skull bandana tied around his head, anyone could see he was bald.

“That’s Tristan. He was around before Anya, so he’s a little pissed she has more power than him, even after being gone all these years.”

“You have to be kidding me.”

Raven shrugged and slid out of the booth, rejoining the pool game. She placed herself next to Anya as someone handed her a pool cue; Anya wrapped her arm around Raven’s waist, planting a kiss on the top of her head before leaning across the table for her shot.

“You saw that, right?” Lexa asked, repeatedly shoving Clarke in the arm as she stared at her sister.

“Even better.” Clarke held her phone out, the moment perfectly captured on the screen. Anya and Raven thought they had the advantage in the embarrassing picture game. They could deny what happened in the hotel room and the gas station all they wanted; Clarke and Lexa would have enough evidence as the pair held on them before the trip ended.

Anya missed her shot and handed the pool cue off, jumping on one of the barstools backed against the wall. She propped her feet on the lower rungs, pulling Raven into the space between her legs, Raven’s back to her chest as her arms hung around her waist. Their laughs at whatever conversation they settled into with Tris carried across the bar, Raven playing with Anya’s hands as their attention switched from their new crowd of friends to the game. Clarke snapped another picture before Lexa even requested it.

“I cannot believe what I’m seeing.” Lexa marveled at the sight. Raven seemed way too sober for alcohol to be a factor this time, even with Anya’s former gang practically pouring drinks down their throats the whole night. Getting Anya to show emotion, besides in her constant arguments with Indra, was like pulling teeth; she offered Lexa a high five at both her high school and college graduation, Lincoln only getting a punch in the arm. But now, without a single care in the world about who saw her, Anya held Raven closer to her, only letting go as someone handed Raven the pool cue.

Anya’s moment of sentimentality came to a screeching halt as she slapped Raven’s ass before she walked to the other side of the table.

“My life is ruined.”

“You sound a little jealous, Lex.” Clarke teased. That tore Lexa’s attention away from her borderline stalking of her sister.

“Jealous of what?” Lexa lifted her arm, resting it on the back of the booth. Her hand grazed Clarke’s shoulder, earning an eye roll from the blonde. Clarke plucked her arm by her sleeve, Lexa still wrapped in Clarke’s sweatshirt despite her clothes in the car being perfectly dry, and dropped Lexa’s arm back on the seat between them.

“For starters, your sister has better game than you do,” Lexa scowled; just because she didn’t run around groping Clarke in front of a bunch of bikers didn’t mean she lacked anything. “Actually, I think a middle school guy does too.”

The music in the bar stopped, a few jeers floating from the crowd by the pool table. Clarke could practically hear Lexa panicking over the low blow she threw. Lexa prided herself on getting this far and not ramming her head into Clarke’s nose before a kiss, or pushing Clarke away with her earlier closed off demeanor. Anxious to look anywhere but at Clarke, Lexa watched Vicente fiddle with the stereo behind the bar, popping a disc in and turning up the volume as a new round of country music blared over the speakers. Anya cheered with the rest of her group, one of the voices calling for another round of beers for everyone at the table.

“Whatever I try still works, doesn’t it?” Lexa shifted in the booth, tilting her head until she hovered next to Clarke’s ear. Clarke shuddered as Lexa spoke; Lexa would have to thank Vicente for choosing that moment to cater to Anya’s taste in music, giving her the opportunity to prove that Clarke had no idea what she was doing, implying that Lexa had no game.

Clarke turned before Lexa had a chance to react, too busy trying to reassure herself that she knew what she was doing to notice Clarke’s lips ghosting hers. She bumped her nose against Lexa’s, her bottom lip brushing against Lexa’s as she moved.

“Maybe.” Lexa felt Clarke speaks the words against her lips. She tried to close the distance between them, but Clarke pulled back, laughing as she wrapped her hand in the fabric around Lexa’s neck. She tugged at the hood, biting her lip as she looked up at Lexa. Tunnel vision struck, Lexa unable to see anything beyond Clarke waiting for her to try again; the music turned into a muffled thudding of bass mixed with her blood rushing through her ears, and the soft buzzing of Clarke’s phone on the table.

Lexa’s gaze flickered down to the phone; she half recognized the number displayed on the screen. Clarke’s free hand came up to Lexa’s chin as she dragged her face back into position.

“Ignore it.” The phone stopped buzzing for a second before starting again. Even with her face locked in Clarke’s hand, Lexa managed a look at the screen from through the corner of her eyes. Half of her brain screamed for her to stop worrying about a phone call and focus on Clarke in front of her, practically begging her to kiss her now that Raven and Anya were properly distracted. The other half of her mind registered the DC area code on the number. And the first three digits. And the last four.

“That’s Lincoln’s number.” Lexa stammered, reaching for the phone. Clarke let go of her face, grabbing at Lexa’s wrist to tilt the phone towards her. Why would Lincoln be calling Clarke? Wouldn’t Octavia be calling her instead? Lincoln didn’t have a reason to talk to Clarke. Lexa reached into her own pocket, her hand coming up empty. She looked over at Anya, still sitting with her hands around Raven’s waist. Lincoln didn’t need Clarke; he needed his sisters, neither of which were answering their phones.

Lexa answered the call, jamming the phone against her ear.

“Lincoln?” His voice came through the speaker, too muddled by the music overhead for her to make out anything he said. Lexa tried switching the phone to speaker, Clarke leaning in to see if she could hear. That only made things worse, the speaker blaring right over their booth drowning him out. Lexa stood and slid out of the booth, heading towards the door of the bar, calling out Lincoln’s name to make sure he didn’t hang up. Lexa stopped around the corner, finding the car still unlocked.

“Lincoln, what’s wrong?” She tried to catch her breath as she sat in the driver’s seat, forehead pressed to the steering wheel.

“Where’s my Jeep?” He asked flatly.

“In DC.”

“Lexa,” Even over the phone, she could see him shaking his head, shoulders heaving as he sighed. Lexa wasn’t about to dig them into a deeper hole; if he wanted details to incriminate his sister, he had to get a lot smarter than that. “Why is my Jeep in a repair shop?”

He couldn’t know that. Figuring out he was being followed because of Raven posting pictures where Octavia would see them was one thing; they didn’t call Lincoln to tell him they nearly totaled his Jeep. Wick didn’t even have the Jeep at his shop, it’s not like he could call Lincoln. For all Wick knew, Raven was a genius and fixed it up on the side of the road and got it back in his spot outside the apartment.

Lexa sat up in the seat, watching as a police car pulled up in front of the bar. Probably a precaution as the night settled in; Anya wound up doing the same thing in DC sometimes, watching the busier clubs with Gustus on the weekends in case the bouncers alone couldn’t handle things.

“I just got a message from a guy named Penn. He said it’s going to cost two grand to fix my transmission.” Lincoln drew her attention back to the call. Nobody else knew about the Jeep except Raven and Clarke. And Gustus, seeing as he towed it back to the shop before dropping Lexa and Anya off.

_Anya._

Of course Anya did it. She took the keys inside the shop and talked to the guy in the main office. She probably didn’t think twice about leaving Lincoln’s phone number instead of one of theirs, even though the whole point of taking the Jeep was to get it back before Lincoln noticed it was gone. There would be no convincing Lincoln they were trying to do him a favor and get the Jeep checked out for him, not when he knew they spent the whole time following him, not even thinking twice about the repairs being done.

“So not only did you blow out my transmission, but you tried using my own Jeep to follow me?”

Another police car rolled down the street, parking next to the first one. Two officers climbed out of each car, heading inside the bar. One spoke into the radio clipped on his collar, his words inaudible from inside the car. The cops disappeared from Lexa’s line of sight, the side of the building blocking her view of the porch.

“You know Anya doesn’t like us riding in the Prius.”

“You two are paying for the repairs.” Lexa winced; that was a decent chunk of next semester’s tuition going down the drain. Or part of a down payment on a new car for herself. All for something she had no responsibility over.

“We’ll take care of it,” More like Anya would take care of it. “Eventually.”

Red and blue lights flashed across the side of the building, two more police cars tearing down the street, screeching to a half across from the others. Four more officers sprinted out, the clouds of dust they kicked up visible in the headlights from the cars.

“Yeah. We’ll see how long that holds up,” She could hear the disappointment in his voice, the anger from his last phone call gone. Lie after lie, he listened to them all, as if he still had some faith that Lexa would wisen up and tell the truth eventually. “Why did you answer Clarke’s phone, but not your own? Or Anya’s?”

One of the female officers dragged someone out of the bar, his hands cuffed behind his back. A trickle of blood crept down the side of his face. Lexa groaned; of course a fight breaks out the second the General makes an appearance in her old stomping grounds.

“I dropped my phone in some water, so it’s dead. And Anya’s a little…” Mental images of the events inside the bar burned Lexa’s eyes. She’d spare Lincoln the details, especially with no idea how much of their conversation Octavia could hear; the last thing she probably wanted to hear was how her roommate was all over her boyfriend’s older sister, the only thing stopping her from taking selfies with hardened old bikers. “…busy. Clarke was right next to me and I recognized your number.”

“Busy doing what? Stealing someone else’s car?”

If she needed a chance to kick off the whole brutal honesty thing with Lincoln, now was her chance. Lincoln bought Anya’s excuse of couch surfing across the country as much as Lexa did; no better way than to rebuild his trust as they followed him like telling the true story of where she disappeared to for two years.

“Car, no. Motorcycle, possibly. Has she ever mentioned being in a biker gang to you?”

Another cop walked out, pulling one of the guys Anya had been talking to out by the arm. The cop didn’t have him cuffed; he let the guy lean against the porch and light a cigarette, maybe asking him a few questions about what happened inside. Lexa would get the story from Clarke later on. She didn’t trust Anya or Raven to have a full grasp of what was going on around them; the way they were cozying up to each other, they probably didn’t even notice the swarm of cops rushing into the place and taking people outside.

“Come on. You’re smart enough to not believe the stories she makes up. Remember that high speed chase she insisted she ended?” As much as Lincoln wanted to deny, Anya’s story from her first year as a cop had some truth; she did chase a guy doing close to a hundred down the freeway, even if it only lasted a quarter of a mile before he pulled over on the shoulder, using his turn signal and everything. Gustus told them the real story, having written the ticket for the guy once Anya pulled him over: poor guy got too into his music and didn’t realize how fast he sped up, matching the tempo of the song. No intentions of running or having all of the Metropolitan Police Department on his tail, just an innocent mistake Anya like to use to make herself seem more intense.

“Lincoln, normally I wouldn’t-“

Two officers walked out of the building, one practically dragging a kicking and screaming Tris to the car, the other wrestling with one of the bandana and leather vest sporting men as he yelled back towards the door. A few of the patrons shuffled out, climbing on the bikes parked out front or turning the corner to the parking lot, piling into the array of cars parked around Lexa.

“But I’m sitting outside of a bar in New Mexico-“

“New Mexico? I thought you were going home.”

“We were. But Anya wanted to make a quick stop. And apparently that stop was this bar-“

Another officer exited, an older woman and one of the bartenders that had been helping Vicente out through the night on either side of them. Lexa did a quick count in her head; eight cops showed up, but only five exited the building so far. Those that left stood around their respective cars, waiting for their partners or trying to wrangle the drunks in the backseats.

“Where apparently all of her old friends are getting arrested at-“

“In New Mexico? Anya lived in Kentucky. Or Missouri. Wait, who’s getting arrested?” Lincoln yelled a little too loud, a slight ringing left in Lexa’s ear. The first car pulled away from the bar, Tris and the older woman in the back, heading in the opposite direction with its lights shut off.

“Just a bunch of drunks and-“

One of the last officers walked out, Anya dragging her heels in the dirt as he pulled her towards one of the cars. Lexa dropped her head against the steering wheel. Why did she even let herself think for two seconds that everyone else in the bar got in a fight during her homecoming, except Anya? Lexa rolled down the window, hoping she could catch on to what Anya yelled as the officer opened the back door of the car.

“Don’t make me pull rank on your ass!” Lexa tried to get a better look at the cop, his face faintly lit up by the neon bar sign on the side of the road. He looked at least twice Anya’s age; the guy probably served on the force since Anya was born. “I’m a lieutenant, damn it!”

“Could have sworn she called herself the General.” Another voice called out, an officer younger than the one dealing with Anya coming off the porch. Tristan slouched over, stumbling over his own feet as the officer guided him to the other car. A gash ran under one of his eyes, blood pouring out of the wound, another cut near his forehead running across the top of his head.

“Lexa, you still there? What’s going on?”

“Linc, I have to call you back.” The officers threw Anya and Tristan into the last of the two remaining cars, the one holding Tristan taking off in the same direction as the others. Lexa watched the taillights of the car as far as she could see, trying to count how many blocks it passed before making a left turn and disappearing behind a set of buildings. She knew she’d be heading that way soon enough.

“Lexa, don’t hang up on-“ Lexa threw Clarke’s phone on the seat next to her, watching the last officer walk towards the car, her own suspect at her side. Lexa couldn’t pin point which one of Anya’s friends it was until the officer swung the car door open and had them sit down. Even from across the pitch dark parking lot, Lexa recognized her.

Clarke looked over at Anya in the backseat, nudging her in the arm with her elbow, as best as she could with her hands cuffed behind her back, at least. Clarke nodded towards the parking lot, Raven’s car one of three still sitting there; the pair stared towards the car, trying to either see if Lexa was in there or plead for her to come save them from spending a night in an Albuquerque jail. The older officer slammed the door shut on them, driving off in the same path.

“This isn’t happening.” Lexa groaned to herself. They were just squeaking by with enough money to cover hotels and gas on the trip; Lexa’s direct deposit kicked in a few hours before she over drafted at the last gas station, and Clarke cleaned out the spaces between Raven’s seats for a few extra dollars in change. Even with the four of them combined, they didn’t have enough to bail someone out, especially if Lexa’s suspicion was right and Tristan’s bleeding head had everything to do with Anya. But with Anya being processed into a cell for the night, who would be able to explain what happened?

“Raven,” She said the name in a whisper before scrambling out of the car. Lexa ran back towards the now empty porch, ready to kick down the door the same way Anya did.

“Raven?” Lexa called out to the mostly empty bar. Vicente shuffled around the counter, emptying a dust pan of broken glass into a trash can behind the counter. Raven popped into sight as he moved, sitting on one of the barstools, head cradled in her hands. Lexa walked up and pulled out the stool next to her.

“We have to go get them, don’t we?” Lexa nodded. As tempting as it sounded leaving Anya in New Mexico, keeping her from holding back the trip, she knew she couldn’t. One angry sibling was enough; two, and she might wind up having to convince Clarke and Raven they could definitely use a fourth roommate.

“What even happened?”

“Hell if I know,” Raven shrugged, leaning against the back of the barstool. “I heard yelling when I was in the bathroom and came out to this.”

Raven gestured at the empty bar behind them. Vicente cleared his throat, standing across from the pair on the opposite side of the counter. He bent over, pulling a pool cue from the floor, snapped almost clean down the middle, save for a few splinters of wood hanging together.

“General sure knows how to make a comeback,” He set the pool cue on the counter in front of Lexa. The red flecks littering the surface screamed blood, probably the same blood pouring out of Tristan’s face. Leaving Anya around blunt objects begged for disaster; Lexa kept her old softball bats locked in her closet, buried behind boxes of old clothes for that same reason. “Haven’t had a fight that good in years. Nice and quick, the way it should be.”

“I’ll pass along the compliment,” She absolutely wouldn’t. With Anya’s ego and Vicente’s praise, she might just move back to New Mexico for good, reclaim her old stomping ground and do whatever it was she did to survive those two years out there. “How bad was it?”

“She had good intentions,” Vicente resumed cleaning behind the bar, the mess around the pool table either already taken care of or being left behind as a memorial for Anya’s legacy. He paused while cleaning a set of shot glasses to look at Raven. “Defending her honor and yours against Tristan.”

Lexa followed Vicente’s gaze to an equally surprised Raven. Anya fighting someone for herself was expected; Lexa and Lincoln would be a likely reason as well, even if they did wind up on the receiving end of her “love taps” more often than anyone else. But Raven?

“Tristan got cocky, running things since General left. Thought if he could take her men from under wing, he could take her woman too.”

“Raven isn’t Anya’s-“

“Let the man talk.” Raven looked oddly endeared by Vincente’s story, urging him to go on. Tristan made the comment in jest to Anya, and the second Raven walked out of earshot towards the bathroom, she tossed him on the table and threatened to shove him up the exhaust pipe of his motorcycle outside. He called for the other guy Lexa saw bleeding and getting thrown in the police car to back him up, sparking a full brawl between those siding with Anya and Tristan. Someone made the mistake of handing Anya a pool cue and the rest was history.

Raven leaned against the counter, chin propped on her hand as she hung onto Vicente’s every word about Anya whacking Tristan in the face with the pool cue, breaking it over his back as he slumped across the table. Vicente wiped the stick down and placed it back on the counter in front of Raven; her eyes lit up as if someone just handed her a crate of illegal fireworks for Christmas.

“Keep it. General might want it as a trophy.” Lexa could already see it, Anya buying a sword rack and placing it on the shelf above their TV, a reminder of how she became a knight in polished leather boots. Raven took the pool cue in her hands as she stood, Lexa following suit. Nothing said romance like a half broken pool cue; Anya never seemed the type to give someone flowers or jewelry, and Raven’s swooning at the story made Lexa think she wouldn’t mind.

“What about Clarke?” The questioned snapped Raven out of her admiring of the pool cue. Vicente raised an eyebrow. “The blonde sitting in the booth? She wasn’t with Anya and the others, but the police still took her.”

“Oh, that one,” Vicente chuckled. Judging by his laugh, Clarke probably unknowingly got initiated into the group, breaking bottles over people’s heads, putting up as much of a fight as Anya. “She ran across the room, tried to pull Anya off of whoever came at her. Cops usually take anyone they see swinging when they walk in.”

Any sane person would have realized there was no pulling Anya off of someone in a fight, especially after being directly involved in a fight with her that only ended with blood being shed and a finger in someone’s wound. Leave it to Clarke to try again and get herself arrested for it.

Lexa thanked Vicente and apologized for the mess Anya caused; he brushed it off, insisting it was a normal night for the bar anyways. Raven trudged behind Lexa as they headed back towards the car, the pool cue clutched proudly in her hands.

“She’s probably getting charged with aggravated assault,” Selective facts from a couple of criminal justice classes taken as electives filled her mind as Lexa tried to guess how screwed Anya was. “Clarke might not get anything. Maybe just assault.”

“Either one sounds expensive.” Raven answered, looking up the address for the local jail.

“You and me can’t handle this alone,” Raven looked up, questioning Lexa. The two of them couldn’t cover whatever bail was set for Clarke and Anya; even if they had been able to grab the other two’s wallets before they got taken in, they still wouldn’t have enough. “I have to call Lincoln.”

“Whoa, no,” Raven stopped Lexa from picking up Clarke’s phone. “Look, I have to tell you something. I maybe, kind of, sort of-“

“Posted things of all of us together that Octavia saw and now they know we’re following them?” Raven’s eyes widened as she managed a nod. “Octavia called Clarke in Oklahoma, letting us know they were onto us.”

“Anya doesn’t know?”

“You wouldn’t be sitting here swooning over her kicking some guy’s ass in your honor if she did.” Raven huffed and crossed her arms.

“I’m not swooning. If anyone's swooning, you're swooning."

“Raven. Not the point. Lincoln called me, that’s why I came out here in the first place. I can call him back, ask them to come help us out.”

“They’re going to be pissed that we’re still following them.” Pissed would be an understatement. Lexa already left Lincoln confused, talking about being in New Mexico, even though their warning to turn around came back when they were still in Oklahoma. Calling back and springing the “Your sister and the roommate of your girlfriend/fiancé/wife, depending on where you guys are, got arrested and are sitting in a jail cell” bomb on them would probably be the worst idea they had the whole trip. But considering the alternatives were calling someone like Indra or Clarke’s mother for help, it seemed like the safest route.

“It’s the only way to get them back.” Lexa handed Raven the phone, not knowing Clarke’s password. Raven handed it back, watching as Lexa redialed Lincoln’s number, holding her breath as the line rang.

“What the hell happened?” Lincoln answered. Music played in the background, the sound of air whipping through an open window drowning it out. Lexa could almost hear Octavia singing along with the radio as Lincoln waited for an answer.

“Clarke and Anya got arrested in Albuquerque. We need your help getting them out.”

Lincoln sighed. The sound of tires crunching on gravel carried over the phone, pausing for a second before being replaced by an engine revving.

“It’ll be a couple of hours.” Lincoln answered, ending the call before Lexa could even get another word in. She looked over at Raven, neither sure what to do until he arrived.

Raven’s phone lit up in her lap, the message preview popping up on her screen. One sentence followed Octavia’s name: _I seriously hate all four of you._


	14. Albuquerque, New Mexico Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attempt 2 at getting this posted

With Lincoln and Octavia, along with their only hope of getting Anya and Clarke out of jail, hours away from Albuquerque, Raven and Lexa did the only thing they could: wait. Raven suggested they go back in the bar, but people slowly trickled back in, no longer fearing another appearance by the police. Not that she had anything against the crowd that took care of her sister while she was gone, but Lexa really didn’t feel like risking getting caught in another fight and winding up in the next cell over.

“Any suggestions?” Raven asked as she drove, following the road that ran alongside the Rio Grande.

“Find a parking lot. Somewhere open twenty four hours so we can try to sleep.” Lincoln didn’t say how many hours it would take or where they’d be coming from; they probably drove well into Arizona by the time Lexa called again.

“How do you feel about truck stops?” Lexa would rather go back and ask Vicente if she could sleep in one of the booths in the bar, or curl up under the pool table and use Anya’s now legendary pool cue as a pillow.

“No way. Clarke already told me that one. I prefer waking up without a tire iron in my face.”

Raven laughed as she scanned both sides of the road. Lexa joined her, already finding most places closed for the night, or their parking lots dwindling to just the cars of employees finishing up for the night. The next fast food place they passed might have to be it for the night.

“She told you that one, huh? Did she mention the missing bras?”

“And the fireworks. How’d those turn out?”

“Like the Fourth of July,” Raven beamed with pride at the memory. “Apparently I set a record for getting chewed out by an RA in that dorm. Kid before me got caught with a bong eighteen hours in. I woke up the entire building with a few well-placed displays around the courtyard in seven.”

They passed another hotel, the vacancy sign out front lit up. Even the sketchiest motels looked comforting at that point, but getting the two bar brawlers out of jail came at that cost, one that didn't leave much room for real beds or showers. At least Clarke had been smart enough to suggest the blankets and pillows back in Oklahoma, though Lexa doubted she intended them to be used in the event of her arrest.

“So, back to the not knowing where Anya was for two years thing. How?” Raven led them back onto the highway, waiting until she passed a few exits to search another neighborhood.

“She never told us.” Lexa eyed a billboard for a nearby hotel and casino in the mountains. Why couldn’t Lincoln and Octavia pick something like that for their little getaway? It probably had a nice, scenic background, desert mountains and some trees maybe, and still offered the gambling they could get in Vegas. A hotel like that probably had a spa, one they could absolutely sneak into as a reward for stopping the couple.

“And she never brought it up after you all started living together? Didn’t get drunk and start reliving the glory days or try riding the couch like a motorcycle?”

“You say that last part like you know from experience.”

Raven shrugged, turning back to scanning the streets. Further down the road, a sign for a Wal-Mart shone, their last glimmer of hope for the night.

They pulled into the parking lot, stopping underneath one of the lights in the middle of the lot. Enough cars circled them that Lexa felt safe for the night; the passing security car with its flashing light added a little bit of comfort that they wouldn’t be mugged while they slept. That, and Raven having her full arsenal of mechanic tools in arms reach that would do some serious damage once she started swinging.

“Octavia’s done it before, the motorcycle thing,” What Lexa wouldn’t give to have a clear face to the name. At least Octavia and Anya had something in common already, to help ease the transition from complete strangers to potential sister-in-laws. “She always wanted a bike but hasn’t saved up enough to get one. I do have dibs on the first ride with her when she does.”

“You’d willingly get on a bike with her?”

“Hey, you don’t know her like I do, even with all the stories Clarke’s told you.” Raven shut the car off and stepped into the parking lot. Lexa followed as she popped open the back of the car, pushing aside everyone’s bags until they found their haul from the other night. With a pillow and blanket tucked under each of their arms, Raven and Lexa climbed back inside. Raven stretched across the backseat while Lexa tried to find a comfortable position lying across the front seats; Raven’s threat about adjusting the seat still hung in the back of her mind.

“Clarke has told you, right? Stories and stuff, I mean.”

Lexa sat up, looking between the headrests of the seat at Raven. She kept her back pressed against the door, undoing the straps of her brace, taking it off and dropping it on the floor before looking up at Lexa.

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“Just looking out for her, you know?” Raven shrugged, discrediting her own answer. “She already talks about you. Whenever we’re not right next to you and Anya, or when you guys are sleeping.”

That part didn’t surprise Lexa. She caught snippets of their conversations every now and then; Clarke no doubt told Raven about their night at the grocery store when they stopped at Blue Hole. The two probably shared as many secret conversations as Lexa and Clarke did on their own.

“I don’t know what you two have talked about, beyond our drunken escapades and adventures in living together.” Raven admitted; Clarke took Lexa’s trust in her to heart, keeping the truth about her family to herself. She could deal with Raven knowing about the embarrassment in the grocery store, even about the kiss in the hallway, but Clarke knew what would be best for Raven to hear straight from Lexa’s mouth. Clarke granted her that opportunity, the same way she waited for Lexa to tell her the truth at her own pace.

“I just know Clarke too well, and she doesn’t talk about a lot of people like that. Not after a couple of days,” Raven paused, furrowing her brow. “Then again, Clarke doesn’t usually spend over half a week crammed in a car or a hotel room with strangers. She does sometimes make out with them in my backseat though.”

Neither did Lexa, both the riding in cars with strangers or making out with them in Raven’s car thing. Raven’s words comforted her, made her feel less like she was letting herself get in over her head. Maybe Raven could learn a thing or two from Anya about confronting people about their feelings. Any attempt at a conversation with Anya about her fling with Raven would either end with another tasing or Anya deflecting every question; she’d start denying that her last name was Woods if Lexa pressed hard enough.

“Just don’t hurt her, okay? God, that sounds cheesy. But really. Clarke’s a good kid, even if she comes home with a criminal record.”

“That’s assuming we still talk when we all get home.” Everything could fall apart by the time they made it back. They could lose Lincoln and Octavia for the stunt and place the blame on each other, losing the little bonds they formed in the car. Anya and Raven could get into a fight, and Lexa didn’t really feel like being in Anya’s warpath, sneaking around to still hang around with Clarke and Raven. Or Clarke could just get bored and realize everything with Lexa was fun on the road, but not something she’d want to continue back home. Lexa shook the thought from her head; Clarke already told her things went beyond the trip, that her “not yet” was only an issue because of her best friend going missing.

“For the sake of mine and Octavia’s sanity, please do. I don’t think I can deal with her pining over you any more than she already does.”

The pair shared a laugh, slipping into in their makeshift beds for the night. Settling on her side and trying to ignore the press of the steering wheel on the back of her thigh, Lexa drifted towards sleep. Images of Clarke and Anya sharing a similar bonding moment in their cell flashed through her mind; stranger things had happened on the trip.

“Oh come on, Lexa,” Raven called out after a few minutes. Lexa hummed in response, not wanting to move from her spot. “You’re not going to give me a warning about messing around with your sister?”

“I’m pretty sure you can handle Anya,” Their interactions at the bar seemed to calm Anya down more than anything else, even if it did end with a trophy shattered pool cue. “She’s the one that needs a warning. I don’t want to see what you’d do with her Prius and a box of fireworks if she got out of line.”

“Thank you for that beautiful idea.”

 

The clattering of a vibrating phone in the cup holder woke Lexa up. She fumbled for it, reaching behind her back to try to find it.

“Raven, wake up.” She groaned, barely able to open her eyes and look at the screen. The parking lot light no longer shone overhead as sunlight crept through the car windows instead. Behind her, Raven groaned, the sounds of her body shifting against the seat filling the car.

Lexa pried her eyes open, trying to focus on the screen. Lincoln’s number popped up again; she really needed to save it into Clarke’s phone, not fully trusting her vision that early in the morning.

“Linc?” Raven pulled herself up, resting her head on the side of the driver’s seat, listening in on Lexa’s end of the call.

“Where are you?” His voice sounded hoarse, like he hadn’t slept the whole night.

“Tell Raven I hate her.” Octavia yelled in the background.

“Octavia says she loves you,” Lexa spoke over her shoulder before turning back to the phone. “We’re in Albuquerque.”

“I know you’re in Albuquerque. Specifically where?”

“I’m not kidding, Reyes,” Lincoln shushed Octavia, waiting for Lexa’s answer. The two bickered back and forth, hands smacking at the phone, Octavia likely trying to rip it from Lincoln’s hand and continue her threats. “Lincoln, don’t you dare-“

“Octavia, do not grab the-!”

Lexa looked around the parking lot, trying to find the nearest street sign before Lincoln was viciously assaulted by whatever Octavia found in the car.

“We’re about twenty minutes away,” Lincoln panted, Octavia mumbling something to him that Lexa couldn’t quite make out. “Octavia says Raven might want to take that as a head start. We’ll meet you there and follow you to the jail, okay?”

Lexa mumbled an agreement before hanging up. She got out of the car and stretched, still trying to shake the sleep off of her. Raven busied herself with the bags in the back of the car, digging through the grocery bags and the ones each of them packed. She pulled back, holding two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. She nodded towards the entrance of the store.

“Better make ourselves pretty before Octavia kills us.”

 

Twenty minutes later, as Raven and Lexa sat on the hood of the car, swapping more of their war stories involving Clarke and Anya, the car they’d been searching for pulled up in front of them. Lincoln sat behind the wheel, Octavia staring Raven down in the passenger seat.

“Oh shit.” Raven whispered, tensing as the couple got out of the car. Octavia paused in front of Raven, arms crossed over her chest. Lexa would have to thank Lincoln for risking his life to keeping Octavia free of any weapons; if she learned anything from Clarke and Raven over the years, she probably had her own tire iron stashed for moments like this. Raven shifted on the hood of the car, avoiding Octavia’s gaze, trying to smooth out a scratch in the car’s paint with her finger.

“One,” Octavia said, still staring at Raven.  Raven snapped her head up.“Two.”

“Raven, why is she counting?” Ignoring Lexa, she slid off the car, slowly stepping backwards across the parking lot. Octavia remained in her spot, leaning against the front bumper of her car, watching Raven retreat until she hit the back of Xena.

“Octavia, please.” Lincoln begged, somehow knowing what was coming next. Had Octavia planned something on the drive back? A few hours in the car seething mad probably gave her one too many ideas of how to get revenge.

“Three.”

Octavia bolted forwards, chasing Raven around the back of the car. Apologies poured out of Raven’s mouth as she circled the two cars, Octavia closing the gap between them with every step. The sight left Lexa torn between interfering and sparing Raven’s life, or laughing at how quickly everything had gone downhill: Anya and Clarke were in jail, Lincoln had to drive back with an angry Octavia, and now Raven was about to be tackled into the asphalt of a Wal-Mart parking lot.

Raven managed another lap around the car. With Octavia an arm’s length away, she reached for the only defense she had outside: the side mirror. As Raven passed, she folded the mirror in, keeping her hand on it until Octavia drew closer. Octavia reached out, aiming for the collar of Raven’s shirt, only to be met with the mirror ramming into her stomach as Raven folded it back out. Octavia doubled over on the ground, the wind knocked out of her.

“Suck it, Blake!” Raven yelled, laughing as Lincoln raced over, kneeling next to Octavia. His hand pressed into her stomach, making sure she didn’t accidentally hit a rib.

“Come on, Octavia. Get knocked down, get back up.”

“Why are you encouraging this?” Lexa yelled as Octavia pulled herself to her feet, free of Lincoln’s help. She winced as she sucked in a breath, brushing the pain off as she charged towards Raven again. That time everyone reacted; Lincoln grabbed Octavia by the waist and pulled her back, even as she clawed at his hands to escape. Raven threw Lexa in front of herself, hands balled in the back of her shirt and head pressed in the middle of Lexa’s back.

“Lexa,” Lincoln spoke first, looking at his sister as Octavia stilled in his arms. “This is Octavia. Octavia, this is my sister, Lexa.”

Lexa tilted her chin up, staying silent as Octavia glared at her. Someone in the world had to have a more awkward first meeting of the person their sibling was dating.

“Skip the formalities, Lincoln.” Octavia warned. Octavia’s gaze would scare Anya straight out of her boots. Or send her into another fit of protective rage over Raven. Lexa’s little daydreams about hanging around the trio’s apartments suddenly changed to more public places, ones where there would be plenty of witnesses to see Octavia disposing of their bodies.

“We should head out.” Lexa stated, slightly anxious to get away from Octavia before she snapped again.

The pairs climbed back into their respective cars. Lexa and Raven remained silent as they left the parking lot, Octavia and Lincoln close behind. Even through the rear view mirror, Lexa could see Octavia staring daggers in the back of their heads; she’s pretty sure Octavia never even blinked in the five minutes they spent facing each other.

“She scares me.” Lexa admitted, the city turning into desert as they neared the edge of town.

“Everything scares you,” Raven smirked, having heard one too many stories from Anya about Lexa being terrified of anything that moved, even the squirrels living in the trees outside their apartment. “Shouldn’t years of Anya trying to kill you have toughened you up?”

“Anya is obligated by blood to not actually kill me,” As often as they bickered, tased each other, pushed each other off of cliffs, Lexa knew Anya never actually meant for any of it to seriously injure Lexa. Except for the phone; she swore that was intentional, knowing it held a decent amount of pictures of her and Raven showing too much human compassion towards each other. “Octavia’s only motivation for not slitting my throat is Lincoln. And he’s not too thrilled with me either.”

“Funny you mention throat slitting,” Lexa whipped her head to look at Raven. Now was not the time to make snarky jokes. “She keeps a machete in that car.”

Personal security was something Lexa could understand, the switchblade still in her pocket, the hunting knife in her car, the family Taser locked in a safe next to their DVD collection. A machete was totally different; either Octavia made frequent trips through the jungles that existed somewhere in DC, or she carried too much rage and violence for her small body to handle with a normal sized weapon.

“She’s never used it on someone,” Lexa breathed a sigh of relief. Lincoln might have been the first victim if their argument over the phone was over said machete. “I think.”

“Today might be the day, Raven.” If things went south, at least she had the pool cue in the backseat for extra back-up.

 

The group made the walk into the jail, walking past the guards and up to the first desk they saw, not knowing where they were headed. Raven pushed Lexa to the front, forcing her to deal with the officer behind the desk. He hardly glanced up at the party practically blocking his view of the rest of the atrium.

“Um, my sister and my…” Why did her mind decide that was the perfect moment to question what she and Clarke were? Raven had already given her blessing, which implied more than just a casual fling, but they hadn’t been on an actual date or even discussed being anything more than someone fun to make out with and send Raven into fits of  _chancla_  throwing rage over her seats being defiled. Clarke didn’t even voice an opinion on things yet, making Lexa feel guilty for even considering putting a label on things without knowing what she was comfortable with.

Something rammed into her ribs as the officer stared up at her, torn between looking utterly bored and confused. From the corner of her eye, she saw Octavia rub her elbow, massaging the point where bone met bone; at least she didn’t bring the machete in the station.

“My sister and my friend got picked up last night. What do we have to do to get them out?”

“Names?” The officer looked back down at his computer, Lexa finally able to speak again.

“Anya Woods and Clarke Griffin.” The names drew his attention back up. Lexa finally caught a good look at his face, recognizing him as the officer that pulled Anya out of the bar in handcuffs.

“Oh god, Woods,” He let out a deep sigh. Anya probably kept arguing with him the whole way to the jail. “Do you know how many times I saw her in a cell at the old facility?”

“No, sir.” It couldn’t be that many; people with lengthy arrest records in another state were likely considered unqualified to serve as police officers, especially in a city like DC.

“Too damn many. I’ll admit, that gang of hers got worse when she left. But damned if I wasn’t hauling her behind into the drunk tank at least twice a month.”

“How much is their bail set at?” Lincoln asked. The officer stood behind the desk, walking behind an opening in the counter. He ushered the group to follow him down a hallway near the back of the atrium. He stopped at a set of double doors, locked by a guard sitting in a small control room.

“Give me a minute.” He said as the guard buzzed him through, leaving the group waiting without an explanation.

“Depending on how much this costs, you and Griffin are either making the down payment on my bike, or covering payments for a couple of months.” Octavia stood to the side with Raven, trying to look through the small glass windows on the doors.

“Jesus, O, we’re sorry.”

“Sorry?” Octavia snapped, the guard in the room looking over at her, fingers ghosting over what was probably a silent alarm. “You guys have a lot more to be than sorry. You too.” Octavia added as she faced Lexa.

“Hey, calm down.” Lincoln wrapped an arm around her upper arm, pulling her against his chest. Octavia exhaled as she let herself sink in his arms, tilting her head back as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Something about the Woods family’s blood must give them tremendous power to calm violently angry women with a kiss in the head; Lexa kept the theory in the back of her mind.

“We were so close to Havasu,” Octavia whined. “By the time we get back, that wildlife refuge is going to be closed.”

Lexa glanced at Raven; wildlife refuge did not sound like Vegas. Unless they had planned the conversation all along, coming up with some random stop to talk about to throw the group off their tail. Octavia already lied once about spending the night at Lincoln’s apartment when she was a couple of states away; wildlife refuge in Arizona sounded like a perfect cover up for an elopement.

“We’ll hit it on the way back,” Lincoln looked up as his sister. “Uninterrupted.”

“Hey, we didn’t plan on Anya and Clarke getting arrested.” Lexa jumped to their defense.

“You sure planned on following us though,” Octavia joined in, not even giving Lincoln a chance to speak. “How long were you going to keep that up?”

“As long as you planned on lying to us about where you were.” Raven nodded in agreement with Lexa’s statement.

“Lexa, me and Octavia are adults.”

“I’m very aware of that, Lincoln. And the adult thing to do would have been to tell your sisters you were going on a trip and when you would be back.”

“Like Anya would have been satisfied with an answer that simple.”

“It would have been better than sneaking off before dawn and ignoring every attempt to contact you.”

“What did you think was going to happen?”

“Kidnapping. Murder. Illegal drug ring. Human trafficking. Prostitution. Anya’s a cop, you think she didn’t come up with a thousand scenarios of every bad thing that you could have been dragged into?”

Raven held her arm in front of Lexa, stopping her from pushing towards Lincoln and more than she already had. Lexa clenched her hands into fists at her side; how dare he criticize her and Anya for caring about him. Just because huge displays of affection weren’t big on their family didn’t mean they cared any less for each other.

“You're not exactly innocent here either, Octavia,” Raven added. “Clarke freaked out when you weren’t in your bed. If it wasn’t for Anya and Lexa telling us they knew where Lincoln was, we would have thought the same thing.”

“Where the hell did you guys even meet?” Octavia demanded, knowing there was no way they just happened to meet in a Starbucks and bond over the fact that their respective roommates were both missing.

Raven looked to Lexa for that explanation; pinning the blame on Clarke and Raven wouldn’t be right, seeing as Raven only went out there intending to do her job before they got dragged into this mess.

“Raven and Clarke came to check out the Jeep when Anya blew the transmission trying to go after you.”

Octavia half laughed, the look on her face saying it all. The plan had been pathetic from the start, only made worse by pulling more people into it and dragging it out way longer than it should have lasted. Octavia stood, shaking her head as she turned around to face Lincoln.

“Jesus, what kind of issues does your family have if you can’t go out without them following you?” Octavia addressed the question to Lincoln, but Lexa took full offense to it. She spun Octavia around, forcing her to face her. Instinctively, Raven and Lincoln pulled at their arms to keep them apart, the two already preparing to go at each other, even with an entire center of police officers walking around.

“I don’t care whose friend you are or how much my brother cares about you,” Lexa pulled forward against Raven, stretching an extra inch closer to Octavia’s face; she didn’t even blink as Lexa pushed towards her, even smirking as the words fell out of Lexa’s mouth. “But if you ever try to question my family again-“

Her threat was cut off by the doors swinging open, the officer leading Anya and Clarke through the doors. They stared at the group in front of them, Octavia and Lexa still being held apart. Raven let go of Lexa first, walking over to Clarke and pulling her into a hug. The sisters exchanged a silent nod, one that meant Lexa would explain what they just walked in on at a later time.

As Raven let go of Clarke, she walked over to Lexa, slinging her arms around her neck. Octavia frowned, confusion and anger washing over her face as Lexa returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s waist. Clarke mumbled a thank you into her neck. Lexa’s opportunity to test her theory came sooner than she thought as she kissed the top of Clarke’s head; while Lexa welcomed the faded scent of coconut still in Clarke’s hair, she felt Clarke relax against her, sinking into the hug.

Even Raven and Anya took a second to savor the reunion. Anya pulled her by her side, wrapping an arm around Raven’s shoulder while Raven laced her fingers through one of Anya’s belt loops. Nowhere near the display they put on in the bar, but it still sent Octavia through another round of looking utterly betrayed by her roommates.

Lincoln and the officer coughed at the same time, reminding everyone that a jail might not be the best time to have a formal “possible significant other, meet the family” arrangement.

“Woods,” The officer looked towards Anya. “I’m three days from retirement. Let me live them out in peace. You two are free to go.”

Anya gave a mock salute with the hand not wrapped around Raven.

“Wait, you’re letting them go?” Octavia sounded like she’d been rooting for them to stay in jail for a couple of months waiting for a trial; after driving back through Arizona in the middle of the night, she most likely did. Probably spent half of it convincing Lincoln they didn’t really need to go back, that his sister was insane enough to protect Clarke in jail.

“No charges,” He brushed past the group, heading back towards the main desk. “Held most of that group overnight to sober them up. If I went around booking them every time I went out there, Vicente wouldn’t have any customers.”

“Best arresting officer I’ve ever had,” Anya mumbled as she lowered her hand; Lexa swore she saw tears welling in her eyes. “I want to be half the cop that man was.”

Octavia looked at the sight in front of her. Even Lexa had to admit it looked strange: Anya with her hands on Raven in a non-violent way. Lincoln looking relieved that his two sisters were standing in front of him and not in jail cells, even if they had crashed his trip. Clarke playing with the string on Lexa’s hood, resting her head on her shoulder.

“I’m out of here.”

Lincoln chased after Octavia as she headed for the door, pushing past a cop and sending his folder full of papers scattering across the tile.

“Outside, now!” Lincoln yelled back, seeing the group still huddled in the hallway.

 

After Raven hauled Anya across the parking lot, unamused by Anya dropping to her knees and kissing the sidewalk and yelling about feeling the sun on her skin after her lengthy imprisonment, the group reconvened at the cars. Octavia perched on the trunk of her car, thudding her fist against the metal; the machete Raven kept mentioned was nowhere to be seen, thankfully.

“Did you two not think to call and find out if they were actually being charged with anything?”

What kind of horrible people were Lexa and Raven for assuming the worst and taking immediate action to try to get Clarke and Anya out? Maybe calling the jail before Lincoln would have been smarter, but they didn’t have time for the clear thinking Octavia expected.

“Apparently not.” Octavia answered her own question, Lexa and Raven staring at their feet like a couple of kids getting scolded. Lexa looked up, catching Anya glancing between Octavia and one of the windows of the car rolled down.

“Hey, calm down.” Lincoln placed his hands on Octavia’s shoulders.

“Our whole plan is fucked, Linc.” A sense of sympathy hit Lexa, seeing Octavia soften for a minute. She bumped her forehead against Lincoln’s as she frowned.

“We still have time.” Lincoln mumbled against her skin. Leave it to him to turn into a big softie when she needed it most; Lexa tried to admire the couple, but Anya creeping towards the driver’s side of Octavia’s car stole her attention. She took advantage of the couple’s distraction, reaching into her back pocket. Octavia pulled away from Lincoln to look at Clarke, cutting off Lexa’s view of Anya.

“You know who wouldn’t have done this? Maya.”

Clarke rolled her eyes at the mention of Octavia’s former roommate.

“Would Maya have helped you hide that tattoo from Bell?” Octavia pulled the collar of her shirt, trying to cover the sharp line that crossed over her shoulder and towards her neck. Clarke told the story of that one in the car somewhere between Texas and New Mexico; Octavia ran around the apartment for weeks, wearing tank tops and showing off the tattoo on her arm, only to get a surprise visit from her brother. Knowing he’d go full blown protective mode, like he already did after Octavia’s fake kiss at the bar, Clarke dragged her into the bathroom and covered every inch of it with make-up while Raven distracted Bellamy in the living room with some marathon on the History Channel.

“I could have done it myself.”

“O, you still need me to do your braids half the time.” Raven chimed in.

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” She puffed out her chest, sending Clarke and Raven in a fit of giggles muffled behind their hands. Lexa took advantage of everyone’s distraction to try to catch a glimpse of Anya, reaching through the open window and unlocking the door. Nearly getting arrested for assault was one thing, breaking into a car in the middle of a jail parking lot was another.

“You seriously owe me,” Octavia warned her roommates. Just as quick as she disappeared, Anya slid next to Lexa, looking far too content with herself. She caught on to Lexa staring, only pulling her sunglasses down an inch and winking. “Don’t even get me started on you two.”

“We’ll make it up to you, okay?” What could Clarke offer that would subdue Octavia’s rage over the group ruining her trip? Her motorcycle seemed the most likely. Maybe alcohol. Clarke’s first born child. Probably a lot less than Lexa and Anya owed Lincoln, the two thousand dollar repair bill waiting for them back home already burning a hole in Lexa’s wallet. “You too, Lincoln.”

“All I want is you four to go home,” Lincoln moved from the car, placing a hand on each of his sister’s shoulders. He spun them until they faced the road leading out of the parking lot. “You guys get in the car, and go straight east, right down that-“

“Lincoln,” He turned towards Octavia, still sitting on the car. She pointed down the road, in the direction Anya and Lexa had their backs to. “Other way.”

Lincoln nodded and turned his sisters in the opposite direction. The last thing he needed to do was encourage them to start following again; Anya would use his mistake to her advantage, walking right up to him and saying she explicitly followed his directions on which way to go.

“Like I said, east.” Anya shrugged his hand off her shoulder, sticking her tongue out at him as she walked back to Raven’s car. Less than half an hour around each other and they dissolved back into their childlike selves. Lincoln returned the gesture as she climbed in the passenger seat, Anya flipping her second favorite bird in response.

“Be careful, okay?” Lexa moved to hug Lincoln, Clarke and Raven doing the same with a much calmer Octavia. Lincoln stiffened for a second, eventually wrapping a single arm around Lexa.

“I always am. You know that,” Lexa nodded. She had known that the whole trip, and seeing the way he catered to Octavia, she knew he probably took even more care, wanting to keep her safe as well. “We’ll talk back at home.”

“Promise you’ll actually come back?”

“Like you two would let me disappear.”

Octavia and Lincoln pulled out of the parking lot first, Raven following them once everyone settled back into their seats. Siding together in the backseat, Clarke dropped her head on Lexa’s shoulder.

“I never want to do that again.” She mumbled, eyes drooping closed. She hadn’t slept the whole night, the only question being who kept her up more, the others that got dragged in through the night or Anya. The tale of her roommates parking lot brawl could wait, preferably until Raven was asleep and unable to dispute the details of her hiding behind Lexa, shaking like a scared puppy.

“Does that mean you’re declining the invitation to join the gang?”

“Not funny, Lexa.” Clarke curled into Lexa’s side, falling asleep as Raven drove them back through the city. Lexa breathed a sigh of relief as she steered towards the highway that would finally take them back home. One last stop for gas, and they could start the push back to DC.

 

“Raven,” Anya yelled out the window as Raven waited near the gas pump. She leaned back in the car. “Give me your phone.”

“You feel like asking a little nicer than that? I did just get you out of jail.”

“If you want me to sweet talk you, you’re going to need to rent us another hotel room.”

Lexa’s gagging woke Clarke up. She planned on going her whole life without knowing any details of what happened in that hotel, and those two were not about to spoil her blissful ignorance. Despite her unsatisfied need for flattering remarks, Raven obliged, handing Anya the phone.

“What are you doing?” Lexa tried to look over Anya’s shoulder at the screen.

“Just checking on some things.”

“Why do you need Raven’s phone to do it?” Clarke walked out of the jail with all of her things, so why didn’t Anya? Finished pumping gas, Raven climbed back in the car, waiting on Anya to surrender her phone.

“Because,” Anya turned in her seat, holding Raven’s phone out to Lexa. Clarke sat forward in the seat, looking at the screen while Raven tried to twist herself around. “I slipped my phone under Octopod’s seat before they took off.”

Another map with a pinpoint stared back at them, Anya back to tracking the couple’s every move. Raven’s grin as she pulled out of the gas station killed all of Lexa’s hope of getting back home. They turned around in the street, following the roads back west as Lexa buried her face in her pillow from the night before. Anya’s laughter mixed with her muffled screams of frustration.


	15. Kingman, Arizona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, many thanks to everyone who has been sticking around for this as we get near the end.  
> I've been absolutely horrible with replies, so I'm definitely going to work on getting back to people this time around. Any comments/feedback are much appreciated!
> 
> also, feel free to stop by my tumblr, commandermari

“Now that Clarke’s managed to stop Lexa from splattering her brains all over the back of my seat,” Raven piped up after a few minutes of driving. It only took Clarke forcing Lexa back in her seat, buckling her seat belt, and bribing her with two full boxes of cereal all to herself the next time they passed a grocery store to calm her down. Even them she grumbled about how bad of an idea it was to keep going after Octavia and Lincoln after just seeing them. “Can we address the elephant in the car?”

There was more than one elephant in the car, a circus full of them after the meeting with Lincoln and Octavia. Someone had to bring up how horrible of an idea it would be to jump back on Octavia and Lincoln’s trail after throwing off their plans; someone also had to point out how bad of an excuse the wildlife refuge was to cover up the truth of the shotgun Vegas wedding. There was also the whole Anya and Clarke sharing a jail cell overnight situation that hadn’t come up, or the broken pool stick underneath Lexa’s foot.

“You mean Lexa’s blatant heart eyes for Clarke?” Anya glanced in the mirror, as if she expected to catch Clarke and Lexa again. Of course they wouldn’t jump to the important things first; Anya had been deprived of ragging on Lexa for an entire night and had to start making up for lost time.

“I do not have heart eyes.” Lexa folded her arms over her chest, shrinking into a ball in her seat. Anya was one to talk with the way she kept looking over at Raven in the front seat. At least Lexa didn’t try to hide behind a pair of sunglasses; she just avoided all eye contact with Clarke before she blew her own cover.

“You sure? Because you’re still wearing her shirt.” Raven chimed in, earning a high five from Anya.

“What, did you just want me to strip in the middle of a Wal-Mart parking lot?” Bailing the two future criminals out of jail didn’t leave much room for changing clothes. Or showering, much to Lexa’s disgust. She didn’t even bother pointing out nobody in the car had found time to change, Raven and Anya enjoying themselves too much to listen to logic.

“Not really,” Raven took her eyes off the road, turning to slap her hand on Clarke’s leg. “But that’s only because I’m a good friend and know Clarke would be very upset to find out she missed that show.”

“Oh, I think she got enough of a show back at Blue Hole,” Clarke kicked Raven’s hand away as Anya spoke. Lexa took a page out of Clarke’s book and hid in the sweatshirt, pulling the hood over her head until it covered her eyes. “You’re welcome for that one, by the way.”

Lexa half considered taking the pool cue and finishing what Anya started by cracking it over her head. Forget the whole having four people to drive faster thing, all she wanted was a few hours without someone making a joke about her alleged heart eyes.

“Raven, do you have an actual point to this conversation?” Clarke asked, renewing Lexa’s faith in at least one person having her back.

“Actually, I do,” Raven pulled over on the side of the road, cutting the engine off completely. She turned to face Clarke and Lexa, Anya shifting in her own seat to join the conversation. “This pains me to admit, but Lexa’s right. We need a real plan.”

“Easy,” Anya reached into Raven’s backpack in the front seat, pulling out the handcuffs she smuggled onto the trip. “We roll up to wherever they’re getting married and-“

 “Stop,” Clarke cut her off, pointing at the handcuffs. “Why did you just pull those out of Raven’s bag?”

“No! Clarke, please, my heart cannot handle the answer to that question,” Lexa yelled, not needing to hear whatever explanation Anya had for the cuffs being in Raven’s possession. The trip had already left her with enough memories she’d spend the next twenty years trying to repress. Anya twirled the cuffs around her finger, a sly grin creeping over her face. “Back to the plan, right now.”

“We’ll scar the children another day. Let’s hear our plan.” Raven grabbed the cuffs, stuffing them in the cup holder up front. Lexa’s appreciation for Raven grew with every passing hour; first with the Jeep, then giving her approval with Clarke, now keeping Anya subdued and focusing everyone on the plan. She had a nice bottle of whiskey in store for her when they got home, the one Lexa had been saving for Anya’s birthday in a few weeks.

Silence fell over the car, aside from the soft smacks of Raven’s hands against Anya’s as she tried to reach for the handcuffs multiple times. None of them seemed to have thought that far ahead. They trailed Lincoln and Octavia by no more than an hour, the closest they’d been the entire trip. Lexa spent the whole time anticipating the moment when it blew up in their faces, abandoning all effort once they lost Lincoln the first time.

Making a list of places the couple could get married would narrow it down, but even if they split up, it would be near impossible to cover all of them. Even with Anya’s phone nestled in the car, it wouldn’t help them chase down the couple through the crowds at each place. They sat for five more minutes before Raven started the car again, despite no ideas being thrown on the table.  Keeping up with the pair could make or break the plan, if any of them ever wound up creating one.

They drove for a few miles free of conversation. Clarke and Anya kept nodding off in their seats, giving Raven a fleeting source of entertainment in watching them jump awake when she steered over the rumble strips on the side of the road, shaking the entire car. Waves of desert heat whipped through the open windows, all traces of green fading into dried grass and nearly perfectly flat mesas rising over the horizon. No wonder Lincoln and Octavia opted for the scenic route instead of the flight.

“Hey,” Clarke tugged on Lexa’s sleeve, pulling her attention from the window. Her voice barely reached over a whisper, Raven and Anya not even able to hear her speak. “Will you wake me up if I’m still asleep at sunset?”

“You plan on sleeping all day?” What good would the drive be without Clarke dragging everyone in to sing-alongs with whatever radio station they picked up through the static, usually one that only played rock music from the eighties or country oldies that Raven mocked Anya for knowing all the words to? She’d miss out on all her chances to stick her phone out the window, taking blurry pictures of the land around them as they flew by.

“Have you ever tried sleeping in a jail cell with her?” Clarke shot a dirty look at the back of Anya’s head. A jail cell, no, but a house and an apartment with Anya had left Lexa with more than a couple of sleepless nights. But none of those involved drunken bikers that had already taken a few blows from the older woman.

“Only if you promise to tell me all about it,” Clarke smiled, nodding in agreement as she curled further under the blanket left in the backseat. She propped one of the pillow against the window, struggling to keep it from sliding against the glass. “Come here.”

Lexa took the pillow from Clarke, placing it under her own head on the seat as she lay across it. Dragging the blanket with her, Clarke draped herself over Lexa, settling with her nose in the crook of Lexa’s neck; she let out a long breath before closing her eyes, tugging the blanket tighter around the two of them.

“Hands above the waist, Clarke.” Raven mocked, catching sight of the two beneath the blanket in the mirror. Even with the threat directed at her roommate, Lexa complied, one hand resting on Clarke’s shoulder, the other in the middle of her back.

“Be quiet, Raven,” Clarke mumbled against Lexa’s neck, sending Lexa’s heart into overdrive. Clarke wouldn’t get much sleep with it pounding through her ribcage, practically hitting Clarke in the cheek like a punching bag in a gym. “And you. Calm down.”

With Clarke so close, Lexa felt the corners of her mouth twist up into a smile. As Clarke’s breathing slowed, so did Lexa’s racing heart. She found herself content staring out the opposite window, only able to see the sky and the dark grey clouds rolling in from the west.

 

Trapped in a deep sleep and Clarke’s koala like embrace that she hadn’t been exaggerating about after waking up in the hotel, Lexa missed a few key points of the trip. For one, Raven drove them straight into the middle of a relentless summer storm. Rain hammered against the windows, sheets of water blurring their vision until they couldn’t even see ten feet in front of them in any direction. At some point, Raven surrendered the wheel to Anya, the two climbing back in the car completely soaked just from the few seconds they spent outside swapping seats. Anya’s efforts didn’t get them much further, insisting they stop in Holbrook until the rain cleared up.

Lexa woke in the parking lot of a Dairy Queen, Clarke pressing kisses along her jaw, the two still wrapped in the blanket together. She kept her eyes closed, half savoring the lazy movement of Clarke’s lips against her skin, half expecting another phone to be shoved in her face if she opened them.

“I know you’re awake,” Lexa cracked one eye open, catching Clarke hovering over her. She held herself up with her elbow next to Lexa’s head, her other hand wrapped around her arm, rubbing aimless patterns through Lexa’s shirt with her thumb. “Thanks for not drooling on me this time.”

She rolled her eyes, still convinced that one day she could erase every one of the pictures Raven and Anya snapped of her in such a compromising position. Clarke laughed as Lexa scowled, squeezing her arm before dropping her head back down to Lexa’s. She pulled away after a quick peck, leaving Lexa whining, trying to pull Clarke back as she moved away. Clarke sat back against the seat, pulling Lexa’s legs into her lap.

“Did Raven and Anya sneak off for some private time in a bathroom?” Lexa asked, noticing that she had an entire interaction with Clarke uninterrupted by Anya’s yelling or _la chancla_ being launched at her head.

“They went inside to get us food,” Clarke nodded at the building behind them. “They might be doing both.”

“Did you and Anya plot ways to traumatize me in that cell?”

“Oh, Anya had plenty to say about you,” Lexa froze; plenty to say probably meant an entire biographical retelling of Lexa’s life, every embarrassing moment Anya witnessed included. The time Lexa knocked herself unconscious with her own softball bat. Ten year old Lexa getting stuck in the tree in their backyard after Anya helped her climb it, leaving her stranded as she watched from the kitchen window, laughing until Lincoln helped her down two hours later. The number of times Anya or Lincoln has walked in on Lexa dancing around the apartment in boxers and a hoodie. Clarke walked out of that jail with too much knowledge about Lexa. “And speak of the devil.”

The pair ran across the parking lot, bags of food tucked under Raven’s arm as she tried to shield them with her jacket. Anya flung the door open, crawling into the driver’s seat, Raven following next to her, both out of breath as they slammed the doors behind them. Raven glanced at the drops of water falling from Anya’s hair and onto the seat.

“My interior.” She groaned, peeling her jacket off and tossing it on the mat covered floor under her feet. Anya tossed one of the bags towards Clarke and Lexa, Raven already pulling food out of the other.

“Suck it up, Reyes.” Anya tossed a fry at Raven, cackling as Raven fumbled to pick it off the seat before it left a grease stain.

“Keep it up and I won’t give you your present,” Anya halted her food fight at Raven’s words. Raven turned around and stretched her hand out. “Lexa, would you please?”

Reaching under the seat, Lexa pulled out the pool cue. Clarke cocked her head to the side as she passed it to Raven, the two halves dangling limply against each other. It took a second for the connection to click in her mind, Clarke’s eyes widening as she realized Anya was seconds away from being back in possession of the very item that landed them in jail for the night.

“How did you…” Anya took the pool cue in her hand, cradling it like a newborn child.

“Vicente wanted you to have it.”

“Reyes.” Anya said softly, placing the stick between them on the seat. She wrapped her hand around the back of Raven’s head, tugging her forward into a kiss. Clarke covered Lexa’s eyes with her hand as the kiss dragged out over several long, uncomfortable seconds. Even with Clarke’s hand blocking her view, Lexa knew it was bad, tongue likely involved. Leave it to Anya to consider a kiss over a deadly weapon to be her version of romantic.

“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” Anya said as they pulled apart, Raven looking far too giddy as she unwrapped the burger in her lap.

“What the hell, Anya? That’s what you said about the matching bracelets I made you at camp!”

Lexa thrust her arm in Anya’s face, the braided leather bracelet wrapped around her wrist identical to the one on Anya’s arm. She remembered the gift all too well, going back to the first summer they spent living in Indra’s house. Lexa worked as a counselor at a camp a few hours outside of DC, filling the time between school ending and summer softball practices starting. While she usually wound up covering the camp’s soccer activities, she got stuck covering arts and crafts for a day when one of the other counselors called out sick. Lexa gave Anya the bracelets on move out day, her sister picking her up and driving her back home. Finding either one of them without the bracelet on was rare, usually only when Anya was on duty or when Lexa took it off for softball games or more formal meetings with people in her graduate program.

“Fine. Second best gift. Bad craftsmanship of your bracelet and all.” Lexa had spent more time repairing both of the bracelets than she had making them. Usually Anya would leave it on her desk, a sticky note specifying whether the metal clasp broke or the leather started slipping out of the secured ends slapped on top of it. Lexa would fix it and leave it on Anya’s dresser, catching her wearing it the next time she left her room. Lincoln expressed sadness over not having his own matching bracelet; Lexa fully intended on making him one, but when every kid his age at the camp was a foot shorter and fifty pounds lighter, there wasn’t a whole lot of room for getting it the right size.

“Aw, Lexa’s sentimental.” Clarke cooed next to her. Lexa shoved her heel into Clarke’s thigh, Clarke laughing as pushed her legs off her lap.

“Bunch of saps,” Raven scoffed, earning another fry aimed at her temple. Raven snatched it off her shoulder and chucked it right back, hitting Anya square between the eyes. “At least my gift is practical.”

“She’s got a point. I can’t kill a man using a bracelet,” Anya paused, finally deciding to eat her fries instead of pelting them all at Raven. “Actually, I probably could. But that’s a surprise for another day.”

“Please save it until after we get back home,” Clarke read Lexa’s mind. “I don’t want to spend another night in jail.”

“Oh come on, Clarke. We had a great night together, didn’t we?”

“Okay, time to tell us what happened in there.” Lexa had waited long enough without getting an answer. With everyone rested and in the process of being fed properly for the first time in two days, it was time for the truth to come out.

The look Anya and Clarke shared didn’t comfort Lexa. It spelled disaster; possibly involving Anya’s trademarked threats of violence. The only comforting fact was the lack of noticeable bruises on either of their bodies. Nobody dragged them into another fight, even as they were surrounded by Anya’s drunken prodigies.

“Clarke and I had a nice little talk. We bonded over some mutual interests and-“

“She threatened to smack me with a log if I hurt you,” Clarke got the same talk Lexa did, just with more violence and less emotions. Raven looked all too thrilled at Clarke’s words. Clarke’s eyes widened as Raven turned around to look at her and Lexa; torn between fear and agony, Clarke braced herself for whatever she was ready to say. “Raven, don’t you dare.”

“A log, huh? Sounds like that threat came out of the _woods._ ”

“Why are you like this?” Clarke groaned, shoving Raven’s shoulder until she faced forwards, forcing Anya to put up with her. Lexa wouldn’t admit it out loud, though her smirk might have given it away, but Raven’s puns weren’t all that bad; Anya looking equally as frustrated as Clarke but still smitten with Raven was an extra bonus.

“Come on, Clarke. You love my puns.”

“I’m changing my last name,” Anya chucked a pile of napkins at Raven, sending them flying over the front seat as they made contact with her. “Lexa, I suggest you do the same, unless you want this one to keep up with her bad jokes back home.”

“Anya, _wood_ you please take the stick out of your ass and lighten up?”

“You can’t use the same pun twice!”

“ _Leaf_ me alone, Clarke!”

Lexa looked over at Clarke, the blonde shaking her head as she stared at her food; with three Woods potentially coming in and out of their apartment back home on a regular basis, Raven’s pun game could only get worse.

“You know she’s only going to branch out and start making jokes about specific trees, right?”

“Lexa, I swear to god, if you said that on purpose…”

“That’s the spirit!” Raven reached behind the seat, punching Lexa in the arm; she already picked up too many habits from Anya. It took a few seconds for Lexa to process what she said to frustrate Clarke so much. “Don’t blame her, Clarke. You practically _axed_ for it.”

Slowly everyone turned their attention back to their food. Anya rattled off potential last names for herself and her siblings, Raven either shooting them down or chuckling to herself as she came up with another tree related pun. Lexa bribed Clarke for forgiveness from unintentionally adding fuel to Raven’s fire, promising the fries at the bottom of Lexa’s bag and half of one of the boxes of cereal she’d been promised earlier. Still set in her stubborn ways, Clarke refused to acknowledge that Lexa’s habit of eating cereal straight from the box wasn’t actually that weird, accepting the offer nonetheless.

One last check on the location of Anya’s phone revealed that Lincoln and Octavia pushed through the storm, the rain still pouring heavily outside. The couple already reached Flagstaff, their path still leading straight up towards Vegas. Raven updated the GPS while Anya started the car again, but not without finding another distraction in the form of a roadside shop selling rocks and petrified wood a few miles down the road.

“What do you want to look at a bunch of old junk for?” Anya asked, driving down the rain soaked street towards the shop. Clarke and Lexa didn’t bother arguing against it, too busy laughing to themselves at how easily Anya caved once Raven put on the puppy dog eyes. If Anya wanted to call Lexa whipped, fine. Two could play that game, and the last leg of their trip was throwing the ball on Lexa’s side of the court.

“I like looking at you, don’t I?”

“Damn. That was smooth.” Clarke leaned over, speaking to Lexa in a hushed voice. Neither wanted to steal the attention of the women up front, Anya blushing furiously at the comment, Raven leaning back in her seat with more pride than she had telling Lexa about the bottle rockets lining the courtyard of her and Clarke’s old dorm.

The car rolled to a stop outside of the Rainbow Rock Shop; Raven’s true intentions stared over them, giant dinosaur statues planted around the building. She bolted out of the car, aiming to take as many pictures as she could through the pouring rain without ruining her phone. Anya crawled out of the car, mumbling about someone needing to make sure she didn’t slip and hurt her leg running around like a child.

“This is still so weird.” Lexa mumbled, watching the pair through the window. Even though they were getting drenched by the rain, Anya helped Raven climb onto the back of a dinosaur; it may not have been the velociraptor she dreamed of, but she finally had a picture of herself riding a dinosaur. Clarke crawled across the seat, pressing against Lexa’s back as she tried to watch as well.

“Relax,” Clarke urged, watching the two run inside the building. Maybe Raven did have intentions of actually buying chunks of rock and petrified wood. Maybe Anya shouldn’t be allowed to handle said chunks of rock or petrified wood until the situation with Lincoln and Octavia had been resolved. “They could always go back to the days of fighting with each other.”

“Speaking of Anya’s violent tendencies,” Lexa and Clarke peeled themselves away from the window. “Did she seriously threaten you with a log? Over me?”

Clarke nodded. It didn’t surprise Lexa, Anya’s threats shifting from Raven to Clarke, especially with her younger sister’s well-being at stake.

“She didn’t start with the log part. I think she only threw it in there because she started showing emotions.”

“You know, once she got into a pretty nasty argument with Indra once and started crying. I saw her go outside, punch a brick wall, and come back inside to ask me to take her to the hospital because she broke her hand. All because she didn’t want me to see her crying over anything but physical pain.”

“That sounds like Anya.” If any stranger were to understand Anya’s reactions, it would be Clarke. She witnessed the lengths Anya would take to watch over her siblings, the words not even necessary for Clarke to know Anya would be relentless on her if she ever did anything to hurt Lexa.

“Raven had a similar talk with me.”

“Please tell me she didn’t use a pun,” Lexa shook her head, adding on Raven’s lack of tool related violence in their conversation. Clarke breathed a sigh of relief at that. “What about blowing things up?”

“Just Anya’s Prius.”

 

Anya and Raven walked back out of the building, each carrying a bag, their free hands linked together. As she climbed back in the car, Anya shot Lexa look over her shoulder, challenging her to make a comment about the two of them.

“Time to quit screwing around,” Raven declared, throwing her and Anya’s new found collection of rocks on the floor. “I know we’re all _stumped_ but someone’s got to go _out on a limb_ here and figure out what we’re doing once we hit Vegas.”

Clarke’s head rolled back against the seat as Raven laughed, nudging Anya in the arm, trying to get her to return a high five for successfully breaking Clarke.

“It’s easier to hate the puns than to hate Raven herself.” Lexa advised as Clarke threw her pillow at Raven; her aim hadn’t improved since Tennessee, the pillow completely missing the space between the front head rests, bouncing off the back of Raven’s and landing in Lexa’s lap.

“Oh, I can do both.”

 

The rain storm passed by the time Anya grew tired of driving, Lexa opting to take over once they passed through Flagstaff. Raven and Clarke whined for a solid twenty minutes in the backseat over having to skip the Lowell Observatory. Clarke insisted it would be worth a stop, even in the middle of the day with the clouds still blocking most of the sky. If they hadn’t been on such a time crunch, Lexa would have pulled over for it, making a point to stay late enough for a chance at one of the more rare night viewings. The pictures Clarke showed Lexa on her phone of the observatory resembled the painting on the car back at the Slugbug Ranch, the same painting that Clarke made her phone background.

Once Lexa passed the sign showing two hundred miles to Las Vegas, she requested an update on Lincoln and Octavia. Anya obliged, Raven’s phone already in her hand. Lexa should have warned Raven about giving Anya the passcode to her phone; knowing Anya, she already emailed over the embarrassing pictures taken of Lexa, all of them awaiting her when she got her phone out of Octavia’s car.

“Clarke,” Anya stared straight at the screen, even with Clarke sitting next to her. “You have the map. Show me where Vegas is.”

With more room in the backseat, Clarke had resumed tracing their route by hand, possibly out of boredom, maybe out of sentimentality; frame the map, hang it somewhere in the apartment for Octavia to see just how far they went to find her and Lincoln. She backtracked all their old stops, adding in the new path they took towards Vegas; Lexa insisted they keep the path programmed into the GPS on her phone, still fully aware of the Grand Rapids incident from her and Raven’s early college days.

Using the tip of her pencil, Clarke pointed out Vegas, sitting a few inches up from where she guessed they were on the highway. Anya glanced between the map and the phone a few times before speaking again.

“So Vegas is up there?” Anya took the pencil from Clarke, circling the clearly printed name on the map a few times. Clarke nodded. “Then someone tell me why the fuck Lincoln and Octavia are down here!”

Anya stabbed the pencil through the map, leaving a gaping hole towards the south, nowhere near Las Vegas. Raven grabbed the phone from Anya, holding it where Lexa could see as they drove. The pin marking Octavia’s car had crossed the border into California, too far south to even consider heading towards Las Vegas.

“Pull over there.” Raven pointed at a rest stop coming up on the side of the road, Lexa complying as the sound of Anya continuing to stab at the map continued. Raven tossed her phone on the seat between her legs, rubbing at her temples until the car came to a stop.

None of them needed to speak to say the thing on their minds; they were wrong. They completely screwed up, revolving their entire plan on an offhand comment that made sense at the time. Lexa sighed, the exhaustion of the trip finally washing over her.

Clarke got her wish as they sat in the parking lot, the sun disappearing behind the mountains. Disappointment must have taken over her too, Lexa not hearing a shutter clicking as she took pictures of the sun set through the open window.

“What now?” Clarke broke the silence first. Just like when they tried to nail down the last stage of their plan, nobody had an answer. At least the Vegas theory gave them an end destination; Octavia and Lincoln could be starting fresh in California, working from the bottom of the state and heading up north along the coast, hitting every major city along the way. Trying to stop them as they moved city to city had failed for days, why would they have any better luck in California?

“Let’s not decide anything tonight.” Lexa answered, knowing Anya and Raven’s suggestions would probably involve finding another bar and drinking until they forgot why they were all together on the opposite side of the country in the first place. Nobody looked like they were in any shape to drive through the night anyways. Raven leaned against the dashboard, chin propped on her folded arms. Anya pressed her head to the back of Lexa’s seat, staring at her boots. Clarke kept folding the remains of the map in her hands, looking out the window at the other cars entering and exiting the rest stop.

“I’ll get the extra blankets.” Clarke offered before slipping out of the car.

 

They fought over who slept on which seats, Raven and Anya eventually taking claim of the backseat, forcing Clarke and Lexa up front. One person sleeping there proved hard enough the night before; even with Clarke lying on top of Lexa again, they tossed and turned through the night. Clarke kicked the steering wheel a few times, once accidentally hitting the horn, leading to an extremely grumpy Anya threatening to smack her with the pool cue if she woke her up again. Raven silenced Anya, pulling her back across the seat, wrapping her arms around Anya as she lay behind her.

Lexa woke in the middle of the night, Clarke nowhere to be found. For a second, she thought they would have to start round two of the missing person search, Clarke making an attempt to hitchhike back home instead of being trapped in a car driving back to DC, or getting snatched on her way to the bathroom a few steps from where they parked. Her panic settled when she glanced out the window, Clarke perched on the hood of the car.

“Am I that bad of a pillow?” Clarke jumped at Lexa’s voice. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Clarke relaxed as Lexa sat next to her on top of the car. She tilted her head back to look up at the sky overhead. With only the dim lights from the parking lot, they could see the star clearly; no skyscrapers blocking their view, no city lights polluting the sky, the complete opposite of DC out in the desert.

“Have you been out here before?” Lexa shook her head; family road trips had been few and far between, even as kids. There’d been a trip to Disneyland for Lincoln’s eighth birthday, but they flew across the country for that one. Their parents probably knew, even as kids, the three siblings in a car together driving for days on end would be a bad deal for everyone involved. Even when they got older, trying to synch up schedules caused too much of a hassle for any real plans to fall together.

“Me and my dad came out here when I was fifteen,” Clarke spoke after a few minutes of silence. “Mom was out in Seattle for some medical conference. Dad booked us a flight to Flagstaff, but he drove us out to the Grand Canyon from there.”

“Just you and him?”

“Yeah. We camped out on the south rim for two nights,” Clarke frowned at the memory. “I hated it. We slept with rocks under our sleeping bags. The wind knocked against the tent constantly.”

“Did you also get attacked by a bear?”

“Panther, actually. Killed it with my own bare hands before it got to my dad.”

“There’s no panthers in the Grand Canyon, Clarke.”

“I’ve got the scar to prove it,” A slow moving satellite passed overhead, a dim light inching across the sky. “It sucked, but Dad loved it. We tried making a fire out of sticks, thinking we’d watched enough wilderness survival shows to do it ourselves.”

“Did it work?” Lexa asked, trying to picture a young Clarke, hair pulled up as she kneeled in front of a fire pit. She gave her the benefit of the doubt, picturing a low trail of smoke rising from the pile of twigs and leaves, a small fire growing that she and her dad would roast marshmallows over before sleeping through the night.

“I almost passed out from dehydration because I refused to give up and let him use a lighter.”

“You should have brought Raven. Sounds like her specialty.”

Clarke laughed, knowing Lexa had a point. The rest of the trip didn’t seem much more exciting, Clarke dreading the hiking and stair climbing to get to the good vantage points. Most of the views paid off, giving her landscapes to pain that she couldn’t have imagined if she stayed holed up in DC those days.

“This was my favorite part though,” Clarke nodded back up at the sky. “It’s even clearer out there than it is here. We just sat out in front of our tent every night, looking up. It made the whole trip worth it.”

The way Clarke spoke about the trip struck a chord with Lexa, the same type of memories almost entirely missing from her life. She remembered the fishing trips on the lake, the car rides to visit family upstate, but those became nearly nonexistent once everyone drifted off into their own things; her parents with work, her and Lincoln with their sports, Anya with whatever she always ran off to do, probably planning her eventual takeover of the biker gang. Lexa would give an arm and a leg to try to remake some of those memories, give her something to hold onto the way Clarke held onto the story of her dad.

They sat together, watching the stars disappear behind slow rolling clouds, another storm coming in from the west. The odd sound of someone pulling into the parking lot would draw their attention for a few seconds, watching other late night drivers pull over until morning.

Maybe Clarke had the right mind set; the trip with her dad had been a disaster, but she still pulled something more than worth remembering out of it. Maybe the entire road trip had been a disaster that would ruin everyone’s relationships. Maybe it would bring everyone together in a way they wouldn’t have expected if they all met at a party one night or an awkward dinner where Lincoln and Octavia introduced everyone.

“You’re thinking.” Clarke said, always in tune with Lexa drifting off and overanalyzing things.

“Lincoln and Octavia.” She didn’t want to think about the past anymore, even if Clarke would probably ease the pain of not having much to remember about her family. She didn’t need to blurt out a full answer either, going on another tangent of how much damage they caused by chasing after the couple. Lincoln’s anger still left her feeling sick, whether it was justified or not. She didn’t want to get overly optimistic about everyone’s new found friendship either.

“They won’t hate us forever,” Clarke said after a while, knowing what lay heavy in the back of Lexa’s mind. “Octavia’s used to people worrying about her. First her brother, now me and Raven.”

“Lincoln might not understand.” Years of Anya, and to some extent Lexa, pushing his boundaries had piled up, and ruining his trip might be the final straw. The one thing he tried to keep safe from his sister’s interventions, and they still weaseled their way in, making things worse than if they had just sat back and let him bring Octavia around them.

“Yeah he will,” Lexa raised an eyebrow at Clarke. She might have known Lincoln from the times Octavia brought him out with her roommates, but that wasn’t enough to reassure Lexa that she wasn’t about to lose him. “He knows all you’ve ever tried to do your whole lives was protect each other. Even if it is kind of extreme.”

If Clarke could see it, then Lexa hoped Lincoln would. From the two of them taking care of each other until Indra got to them, to Anya dropping her entire life in Albuquerque to support them full time, it had all been to remind each other they would keep each other safe. But Octavia wasn’t a threat to Lincoln’s safety. The way the two took care of each other, even in the hour Lexa spent around them between their arrival and leaving the jail, Lexa could see he was safe with her. At least they weren’t getting married; Lexa might have trusted Octavia so far, machete in her car and all, but it’d be a few years before she got that approval from Lexa, let alone Anya.

“You should come over when we get back to DC,” The words fell out of Lexa’s mouth before she could think about it. If she trusted Octavia, it only made sense to trust Clarke and Raven, with her own well-being and her sister’s. “Our place will change the way you think about us.”

Back home, she could show Clarke they weren’t all cross country man hunts and tasings with no warning. They could sift through photo albums that backed up the ridiculous stories they swapped over the trip; Clarke could finally stop insisting Lexa exaggerated the Paintball War of 2010 that left them cleaning every inch of exterior wall at Indra’s house, all because Anya decided paintball guns would be a good birthday gift for Lincoln, only to piss him off twenty minutes after they figured out how to use them. She could dust off the album in the back of the hall closet, the only one with pictures of the siblings and their parents; maybe Clarke would do the same, bringing around pictures of a younger her and Raven with the Griffins.

Their lives weren’t all violence and blows to each other’s egos. There were mornings where they went on runs together before drifting apart until they came back home later in the day, afternoons where Lincoln offered to wash their cars with the Jeep, usually earning some help from Lexa or Anya, and nights where Lexa proof read Anya’s reports before she filed them at the station. Clarke could see that, get roped into the lazy days where they all enjoyed themselves, drag the Woods clan over to her apartment for the same things.

“You already have.”

Clarke dropped her hand on Lexa’s thigh, drawing circles over her jeans with her thumb. Lexa let her head fall on Clarke’s shoulder as they turned back to watching the sky. Tomorrow they would drive home, back to place where Lincoln would hopefully understand what happened, where Clarke already understood what happened in the past. As a plane passed overhead, lights along the wings blinking as it pulled through the clouds and back between the stars, Clarke pressed a kiss to the top of Lexa’s head.

They retreated back into the car as rain fell around them, the approaching storm hitting with less force than the one from earlier. Despite the cramped space up front, they fell into a decently comfortable position to sleep in, Clarke lying on her side, Lexa facing her with her head tucked between her neck and shoulder. Clarke balled her hands in Lexa’s shirt, keeping her tugged close against her through the night. Lexa could only dream of the day she recreated this in her own bed, free from the gear shift digging into the middle of her back.


	16. Lake Arrowhead, California Part 1

“Time to wake up, love birds!” Raven screamed, slamming a pillow over Clarke and Lexa’s heads, instantly waking Clarke up.

“Raven, what the fuck?” Clarke squinted as sunlight hit her face, Raven’s onslaught of pillow attacks continuing; legs, arms, backs, anywhere Raven could reach, she swung. Lexa groaned into Clarke’s neck, reaching blindly for the pillow whenever it hit; her reaction time that soon after waking up wasn’t up to par, her hand grasping at air seconds after Raven already pulled the pillow back, winding up for a second shot.

“Clarke, stop. You’re all soft, get back in bed,” She mumbled as Clarke sat up, taking the pillow from Raven’s hand. Lexa rolled over on the seat, taking over the spot Clarke’s torso once occupied. Her arms snaked around Clarke’s waist, trying to pull her back to lie down. “Don’t leave, it’s cold.”

Raven watched as Clarke shook Lexa awake, more excited than when Lexa accidentally joined her game of puns. Lexa’s sleep filled mumblings would haunt her for the rest of her life, so long as Raven had them committed to memory. Lexa sat up, rubbing her eyes before nuzzling the back of Clarke’s neck.

“Wipe the heart eyes off your faces, you two,” Raven said, earning a glare from Lexa. She looked around the car, finding Anya rummaging through the bags in the back of the car. Whatever she was looking for must have been important if she passed up an opportunity to mock Lexa for showing affection. “We’ve got a wedding to stop.”

“We already figured out they aren’t in Vegas, remember?” Clarke asked Raven. Did her and Anya get into a bottle of alcohol hidden somewhere in the car the night before? The whole point of spending the night at the rest stop was because Octavia and Lincoln weren’t heading to Vegas anymore.

“I know that. They’re in California getting married.” Raven dug for her phone in the mess of blankets on the seat behind her. Once she had it unlocked, she held it up for Clarke and Lexa to see; Octavia and Lincoln’s pinpoint moved further into California, hovering near Lake Arrowhead.

“What gives you that idea?” Lexa asked. She’d never heard of Lake Arrowhead. It sounded more like a vacation spot with time share cabins than a quickie wedding destination.

“Oh, we had a very productive morning before you two got up.” Anya called over the mountain of bags before slamming the door shut, circling back to the open window in the backseat.

“I don’t see what your sex life has to do with Lincoln and Octavia eloping.” Lexa replied. She swore Raven had mentioned a rule against that kind of thing happening in the car when other people were around. Leave it to Anya to weasel out an exception. Sleeping in the rain with Clarke might have been a better option, not knowing what exactly happened in the seat behind them.

“Not that kind of productive, you pervert. I woke up at sunrise and decided to check on where they were. Raven checked a few hours later and they still hadn’t moved. Doesn’t that seem weird to you?”

“God, Anya, you’re right. What kind of lunatics spend an entire night in one place? Probably doing something weird like sleeping.” Clarke ranted, rolling her eyes at Anya.

“I’m going to ignore that comment for now,” Anya pushed her sunglasses back on her face, the whole intimidating cop persona taking over. She did the same thing to Lexa the first time she pulled her over for not signaling a lane change on a patch of highway Anya happened to be watching. Gustus had to stop her from calling in back-up and fake arresting Lexa for a supposed warrant. “Better hope you don’t have any outstanding tickets back home, Griffin.”

“What Cheekbones is getting at is,” Raven rolled up the window, forcing Anya to climb back in the car if she wanted to intimidate Clarke any further. “We got curious and started looking at what’s around there. This thing isn’t totally accurate, but it showed them near some fancy spa resort.”

“So we looked into it, and what do you know, they do weddings there.” Anya opted to continue the story instead of making vague threats about taking Clarke to jail over a parking ticket.

Most resorts did weddings. They upped the prices on rooms, shoved them in a package involving an altar overlooking a field of wildflowers and trees, and threw in either an outdoor seating area or a decorated hall for the reception. Resort weddings meant huge, organized parties, not elopements. Lincoln and Octavia probably just picked a nice hotel for the last leg of their trip; if they slept in the car the whole way or anything like the hotels the group stopped at, Lexa wouldn’t blame them.

“Still not seeing the point.” Lexa waited for them to explain, or dig themselves into a deeper hole.

“We knew they wouldn’t tell us straight up if there was a reservation booked under their name, so we got a little creative with our call to the front desk.”

Anya straightened in her seat, clearing her throat a few times before putting on the thickest country accent any of them had ever heard in their lives.

“Darlin’ I’m hopin’ you could help me. My dear cousin called me and told me she was marryin’ the man of her dreams this weekend. That girl’s a handful, let me tell you, givin’ her mama a dang ol’ heart attack when she up’n left with that boy. He’s a good one, but she’s a lil’ firecracker. Didn’t even take the time to send out invitations and all the fixins for the weddin’, bless her heart. She just called everyone up an’ told them when and where to come down. Her mama thinks she done gone and got herself knocked up, but she don’t know her ass from a hole in the ground, let alone her own daughter.”

Raven snorted as she tried to stifle a laugh at Anya’s delivery.

“Sweetheart, I tried to remember what she told me. Even said I’d write it down an’ everything. But ever since ol’ Bubba Ray Ray and cousin Clarkey’s mule Lexa Loo kicked me square between the eyes, well, I’ve been a few bulls short of a rodeo, if you know what I mean. I reckon that stubborn ol’ ass is gonna kill someone someday, mean ol’ bastard. Lord, I shouldn’t be usin’ that kind of language, y’all’ll have to excuse me, it’s not right for a lady. Oh gosh darn, listen to me ramble. Honey butter biscuit, you think you could tell me if you have any Blakes or Woods gettin’ hitched today? I’d hate to miss that lil’ butterfly walking down the aisle. If only Grandpappy was still around to give her away, god rest his soul.”

“You’re kidding me,” Lexa deadpanned. Clarke cracked up with Raven, the latter nearly rolling on the floor in tears while Anya spoke. Years of Anya watching _Gone with the Wind_ hadn’t made her accent any more believable, nor did the hours of country playlists playing on a loop in her car; all that Dolly Parton idolizing hadn’t paid off a bit. Whoever she spoke to on the phone had to be a complete idiot to fall for it. “That’s the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with. This whole trip made more sense than any of that.”

“If I tell you a duck can pull a truck, then you shut up and hook the sucker up,” Anya dropped the accent. “Because the receptionist told me there’s a Blake wedding at six this evening with a reception to follow in the Lake View Hall.”

“Hate to break it to you, lesbian Scarlett O’Hara, but Blake’s a common last name,” Lexa refused to accept that it had been that easy to find out, let alone that Anya’s stupid accent and fake story had gotten them the information. Especially a story that implied she was a donkey. “And shouldn’t it be the Blake-Woods wedding?”

“Hey, if Lincoln wants to take his wife’s last name, let him. Get with the times, Lexa.” Raven snapped. Lincoln Woods becoming Lincoln Blake was the least of Lexa’s worries at that point.

“The receptionist specifically told me the party was booked under the bride’s last name.”

“It all adds up,” Raven concluded. Lexa sat with her back against the dashboard, completely dumbstruck. Lincoln and Octavia were getting married. That’s why Octavia was mad about the wildlife refuge; they did have a schedule to keep, a whole wedding planned that getting Anya and Clarke out of jail nearly threatened. “So are we doing this or what?”

Something about the situation didn’t sit right with Lexa. Why would they go through the hassle of planning a wedding and inviting people, but hide it from the people closest to them? Who would they even invite? Indra? Octavia’s brother? Random cousins they only saw every couple of years? The last time they even saw most of their extended family was at their father’s funeral; Lexa punched their cousin Roan in the face the night before in the parking lot of the funeral home, their uncle Titus calling for Lincoln or anyone to come break the fight apart before everyone inside noticed. Did he plan on picking one of them to be his best man?

But Raven was right; it was too much of a coincidence to go unchecked. Lincoln and Octavia had been on the move the entire trip until that point. They never stayed in one place longer than a couple of hours, usually heading out on the road right after sunrise. With a Blake wedding taking place in the same resort they hadn’t moved from, it was too much of a possibility to ignore. Neither her or Anya were willing to let another member of their family sneak off unannounced, not when they could do something about it.

Lexa looked over at Clarke, seeking reassurance before she made a hugely regrettable decision. The look on her face said everything. The look of betrayal on her face mirrored Lexa’s; the trio probably talked about being each other’s bridesmaids, fighting over who got maid of honor, planning bachelorette parties. Instead of celebrating with Octavia, they had to hunt her down.

“Are we going down there to break it up? Or are we going down there to watch it happen?” Lexa prompted the group into another round of silent contemplation. Lincoln and Octavia cared about each other, that much was obvious. Octavia had to understand Lincoln’s relationship with his family if she put up with risking the entire trip to help his sisters and still go through with the wedding. Lincoln’s softer side showed around her, the way he kept her calm when she needed it most, but still encouraged her to not back down, even if it was just to chase Raven around a car. Maybe they didn’t need years together to decide they wanted to be together for the rest of their lives; maybe deciding after only a few months of knowing each other was a set up for a guaranteed disaster in a few years when it fell apart.

“We’ve got three hours to figure that out.” Clarke looked at the route mapped out on the screen. If they got lucky, they’d blow through any traffic and find the resort without getting lost. Then all they had to worry about was getting to Lincoln and Octavia in time.

“I’m driving,” Anya said as she flung open the driver’s side door. Raven backed her up, appearing at the passenger’s side. Clarke and Lexa surrendered their seats with no question. “So we better figure it out in two.”

 

As promised, Anya made it into city limits right at the two hour mark. Lexa begged her to cool it on the curved roads leading up to the resort, not feeling up to flipping Raven’s car and tacking those damage fees onto the already costly bill they still had for the Jeep.

Anya pulled to a stop across the street from the resort driveway. They still had time before the wedding, but she wanted to do a stake out before-hand.

“There’s another entrance around the back,” Raven announced, looking at an overhead map of the resort, Anya too busy watching two women walking down the curved drive towards the main building. The resort’s parking lot was out of sight, tucked farther into the property with a security guard or a valet probably watching over it. If Octavia’s car was there, they wouldn’t know unless they got inside the lot. “Think that one will be any better for us?”

“We’ll check when we circle back that way,” Anya rolled the window up and leaned back into the seat. She put more effort into her reconnaissance mission than she did on some of her traffic patrols. A guy on a stolen motorcycle could fly right past her in DC, but Octavia couldn’t sneeze inside the building without Anya catching on. “I’m more worried about our escape route.”

“Escape route? Do you plan on maiming someone in there?” Lexa asked.

“If I have to, yes.”

“Why do you always go straight to violence?”

They had to keep calm once they got inside, whether they sat through the ceremony or not. If they kept their mouths shut and let Octavia and Lincoln get married, there had to be an air of civility around the family, keeping the Blakes from finding out the truth of the Woods' less than peaceful ways of conflict resolution. They’d hold themselves back from starting any physical fights until after the third family gathering hosted at Lincoln and Octavia’s new home together. Crashing the wedding would already tarnish their reputation enough; Anya smacking the groom unconscious wouldn’t help their case either.

Lexa checked the time on the radio; they still had six hours until the wedding started, unless they decided to give the bride and groom any last minute pep talks before walking down the aisle. But the looks on everyone’s face meant nobody had actually made up their minds on what to do. For a group that spent days racing against time trying to catch up with the couple, they never seemed to find even five minutes to come up with a definite idea of what to do next.

“Look, I’m all for going in there right now and having an intervention,” Raven said. “But we look like crap. I have a two inch layer of New Mexico and Arizona dirt on my skin. Lexa’s still covered in swamp water and Clarke’s sweatshirt. Anya just reeks. And Clarke needs to wash her damn hair before a bird starts nesting in it.”

The whole car turned towards Raven. Lexa and Anya looked downright offended while Clarke shrugged the insult off. She had a point. They couldn’t stroll into the resort looking like a couple of bums that had legitimately been living in a car for two days. Security would probably escort them right of the property and back onto whatever street corner they thought the group had been peddling on.

“Find us a cheap hotel?” Clarke asked Anya, still not forgiving Raven for her choice way back when the trip started.

 

Cheap hotels didn’t exist near the resort. Every place they passed was a kitschy bed and breakfast or some kind of lodge with lakeside cabins that would run a couple hundred dollars for a one night stay in a room with one bed. The further down the road they went, heading back towards the busier parts of the city, the sparser the hotels and lodges became. Raven’s previous restriction on picking hotels was quickly revoked; she wore a smug smile as she pulled up the directions to a Comfort Inn and hour away from the resort, having already looked it up, just waiting for the rest of the group to cave. She refused to release the child safety locks on the back doors once they pulled into the parking lot, forcing Clarke and Lexa to admit she was a genius and they’d both be dead or in jail without her. Anya managed to walk off scot free, no surprise to anyone.

Also to no surprise, Lexa called first dibs on the shower, pushing Clarke into the small closet across from the bathroom to beat her to it. Once she regained her balance, and Raven and Anya quit giggling in the hallway, Clarke turned to yell at Lexa for nearly ramming her head through the wall and recreating her most renowned painting; Lexa answered by tossing Clarke’s well-worn sweatshirt back in her face with a “Thanks!” thrown over her shoulder.

“Close your mouth, Griffin. You're going to catch flies.” Raven mumbled.

“You need a glass of water, Clarke? Because you look a little thirsty.” Anya added. Lexa smiled to herself as she started the shower, knowing Clarke had gotten a full glimpse of her bare back before she shut the door, tattoos and all.

 

By the time everyone cleaned up and changed into clothes that didn’t smell like beer, sweat, and the inside of a jail cell, they had four hours until the ceremony started. Lexa tore through the bags Anya packed for her before leaving DC, Raven mirroring her on the opposite bed with her and Clarke’s. T-shirts, tank tops, cut-off shorts, and sweats flew across the room, heaping into one giant pile between the beds. Clarke shot up from her spot at the chair in the corner of the room, catching Raven before she tossed one of her bras over her shoulder. Anya’s laugh drew Lexa to turn around, catching Raven with the bra held over her head, Clarke jumping up to reach for it.

“How inappropriate would it be to go to a wedding in basketball shorts and a flannel shirt?” Lexa asked, reaching the bottom of the last bag.

“Depends. Are we objecting to the wedding before or in the middle of the ceremony?” Anya asked, not helping in solving the outfit crisis.

“Wait, so we’re definitely talking them out of it?” Clarke asked as she started tossing things back in her and Raven’s bag.

Nobody had brought it up since they left the rest stop. While Lexa admitted the marriage wasn’t the worst idea, it wasn’t the best either. The fact that it was planned entirely behind their backs and without an invitation stung, but ruining Lincoln’s shot at happiness might hurt more than being skipped over for the wedding. Him and Octavia might have expected this exact thing to happen, their closest friend and family losing their minds over the wedding, but still not wanting to deprive the rest of the people they cared about from seeing them exchange vows.

“Should we?” Lexa asked.

“It’s too soon,” Anya answered from the chair. Her voice softened, the same way it did whenever she first talked to Lexa about moving to DC with Indra. Clarke and Raven exchanged confused looks, ones Lexa caught but Anya didn’t. “I get he cares about her, but it’s been months. They’re going to fall out of that honeymoon phase eventually, and then what? They get in their first fight and don’t know how to handle it?”

For Anya to be thinking so clearly, the topic had to hit home for her. If Lincoln and Octavia fell apart, it would hurt him. Between the legal stuff like the divorce papers and splitting everything they owned and the emotional stress it would put on him, neither of his sisters wanted to see it. Every day they saw him as a brick wall towering over them, but the second he cracked, he turned back into the scared fourteen year old kid looking for his parents and sisters in an empty house.

“What if it works out?” Lexa hated going against Anya, but this was her only shot at getting her to listen to reason. “What if they just know they’re happy together and can work through whatever happens? If we go in screaming objections, they might lose each other forever. And push us away because of it.”

The look Anya gave Lexa across the room echoed in her chest, the look of someone torn between two decisions. Years ago it had been keeping her family in Baltimore or uprooting them to DC; now it meant keeping them in a place where they trusted each other or throwing it all away over trying too hard to protect them. Anya pinched the bridge of her nose; Lexa knew it was a cover for her to wipe the tears at the corners of her eyes, not wanting Clarke or Raven to see, the same way she did years ago when she agreed to let Indra put their childhood home for sale and start packing everything they owned.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Lexa crossed the room, sitting opposite Anya at the small desk across from their beds. Lexa propped her elbows on the table, grabbing Anya’s wrist and pulling her hand from her face. “We go and try to get into the reception. If you get even the slightest hint that Octavia isn’t true to whatever vows she’s saying or the words the officiant’s reading, you can object.”

“This is a trap, isn’t it?” Anya mumbled, sniffling as she tried to keep the conversation low. Raven and Clarke made a show of throwing their things back in their bags, bashing brushes against shampoo bottles and rustling grocery bags together. They couldn’t have made their intentions more obvious, but if it bought Lexa a chance to negotiate, she’d take it.

“No trap. I’ll stand up and object with you,” Lexa tugged at the bracelet on Anya’s wrist. “Nobody is losing anybody tonight, okay?”

Anya paused, both mulling the option Lexa placed in front of them over. Would standing up and objecting even do anything? Security could just escort them out and the ceremony would go on like nothing ever happened. Anya might take it a step further and storm up to the altar, knock the officiant out, and drag Lincoln back to the car herself.

“Can I hit him if he tries to fight me on it?”

“Not in front of everybody.”

“Fine.”

Anya nodded and Lexa let go of her wrist. Lexa let out a heavy sigh. Getting Anya to open up and hear her out had been the hardest part of the trip; worse than driving through the nights, worse than getting the car out of impound, even worse than trying to figure out the whole situation with Clarke. But now they had a fighting chance of getting through the wedding, Anya’s anger no longer her sole motive for her choices. Anya dried her eyes again, a small smirk growing on her face as she looked back up at Lexa.

“But it might still be bad. We could wind up with Octadecanol as a sister.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Raven yelled, slamming her back pack on the floor. The serious mood of the room plummeted, Raven’s outburst drawing everyone into a fit of laughter; everyone besides Raven, too busy picking the clothes that exploded out of the bag and repacking them, muttering under her breath about the SAT’s using less pretentious words.

 

“Well, I’m glad the Lifetime movie segment of our trip is over.” Raven commented as the group crawled back into the car. Anya had painstakingly redone her make-up and gone through Raven’s phone twice to make sure she hadn’t snagged any pictures or videos of her showing emotion; Lexa was half tempted to remind her of the lovesick way she said Raven’s last name upon receiving her pool cue, or the slew of pictures Clarke had saved of them in the bar, but they were already down two phones and needed Clarke and Raven’s to get back home.

“Blow me, Reyes.” Anya still crawled into the front seat with Raven.

“Not until after the wedding.”

“Oh god, not until you two are in an entirely separate building from me.” Lexa added, fearing what would happen in the two bed hotel room over the night. If their sleeping arrangements for the past few nights had broken the streak of Anya bunking with Lexa, that night wouldn’t be much different. Not that anyone would hear her complaining about sharing a bed with Clarke again; she would just rather it be far away from Anya and Raven. The thought of an open bar at the wedding terrified her, knowing what happened when those two mixed with alcohol and hotels.

“And no, the car doesn’t count.” Clarke clarified before either could get any ideas.

“Fine, spoil our fun. We have just enough time to find a store and buy wedding appropriate outfits,” Anya scrolled through pages of stores in the area. “We’ve still got an hour drive back up to the resort, so we change in the store and get the hell out.”

Three hours, two minus the drive time, was more than enough to find an outfit. At least if the Vegas wedding had gone down, they could have skipped the outfits; looks wouldn’t have been much importance when they were calling off a wedding being performed by a drunk guy dressed like Elvis. Now that they had potential in-laws to impress and wedding pictures they might pop up in and be shown to Lincoln and Octavia’s future children, they had to step up.

 

Budget wedding outfits turned out to be as rare as cheap hotels. They should have expected as much, running around Rancho Cucamonga as if they expected a thrift shop to pop up on the next corner they turned. Walking past the shops in the Victoria Gardens, they felt out of place, still slumming in their travel clothes that people around there would have seen as pajamas.

Anya pushed Raven past a Brookstone, reminding her they were on a time crunch and couldn’t waste the rest of their afternoon buying things like towel warmers or trying out zero gravity massage chairs. In turn, Raven dragged Anya out of a Sunglass Hut, claiming one person did not need more than five pairs of Ray Bans, not even a cop. While they bickered with every block they walked down, Clarke and Lexa felt like tourists, lagging behind them, marveling at the palm trees outside the shops, hand in hand as they pointed out the shops they couldn’t find in DC.

 

“Clarke, all of these make me look ridiculous!” Lexa yelled, sending the fifth dress Clarke suggested for her over the wall of the fitting room, back into the room Clarke was changing in. It’s not that Clarke had bad taste; everything Lexa tried on would have looked fine on Clarke, but on her, it felt awkward. Too short, too tight, too high of a slit running up her thigh, all things that would have been fine for a romantic date, not a wedding with possible members of her family in attendance.

“No, your face does a good enough job of that on its own.” Anya called out from the opposite dressing room. Lexa banged her fist against the adjoining wall, shaking the mirror on Anya’s end.

“You’re sure you didn’t like the green one?” Clarke answered, still trying on her own selection of dresses while Lexa changed back into her own clothes. “Come on, it matches your eyes.”

She had some kind of ulterior motive; the second they walked in the shop, Clarke pushed Lexa towards the dresses, Raven happily wandering over to the section of blazers and pants. Nearly every minute of Clarke’s time was spent on trying to find something for Lexa to wear, yet she still picked up outfits for herself along the way. Each time Lexa shot down a dress, it came off as a challenge to Clarke to find one she would spend the rest of the night in without complaining.

“Why does Raven get a suit?” Lexa pouted as Clarke tossed another dress over to her. It barely reached the middle of her thigh, a sheer skirt hanging from the waist and tailing down one leg nearly to the floor. Another dress she’d rather see Clarke in than herself. With Clarke still changing and likely buried under the mountain of rejected dresses from Lexa, she took her chance to go through the racks Raven had pulled her outfit from.

“Look, no matter what she tries to shove you in, you’re not going to look as good as me.” Anya announced, stepping out of the fitting room in her dress of choice: black, not surprising anyone, with two small cut outs below her ribs, and a plunging neckline that toed the thin line between night at the club and wedding worthy.

“Please, like either of you could look better than-“ Wood clattered against tile behind Anya, Raven losing her grip on the wooden hangers in her hand as she stepped out of the fitting room.

“Holy shit, Cheekbones.” Raven whispered, looking Anya up and down. Lexa thought she’d seen Raven in awe at the bar when Vicente gave her the pool cue; she half expected Raven to pass out where she stood, forgetting how to breathe once Anya walked over to her, straightening the lapels of the grey sleeveless jacket she’d thrown on.

“You clean up nice,” Anya took a step back, taking in the full sight of Raven’s outfit, from the skinny grey ankle pants to the deep red tank top under the jacket. “For a mechanic.”

“Not too bad yourself. For a cop.”

“Hey, cops have balls. We know how to dress up.”

“Yeah, yeah, talk to me about your balls later.”

“Oh my god, we’re in public!” Clarke yelled, still locked in the fitting room. The house music pumping through the store’s speakers wouldn’t drown them out; the two women working inside the shop probably considered booting the whole group out on the street. Judging by the empty shop, Lexa guessed they needed the sales more than their peace of mind.

Lexa rolled her eyes as she slung a black blazer over her shoulder, Anya and Raven walking towards the woman at the register. The other employee hovered near Lexa, watching as she pulled out a pair of black pants identical to Raven’s. Clarke’s efforts failed; in no way would Lexa be sneaking into her brother’s wedding wearing a dress, especially when Anya still made it seem like they would need to scale a fence in an effort to get out of there unscathed.

Complete with a dark blue collared shirt, one Lexa most definitely did not pick out because it matched the blue of the dress she liked the most that Clarke chose for herself, Lexa headed back to the fitting room. It was a tactical decision; if they wanted to slip in the wedding unnoticed, they had to look the part. Raven and Anya’s outfits matched well together, so it wouldn’t hurt for Lexa and Clarke to look like they put some planning into it as well, especially if they had to play the fake couple card around Lexa’s future in-laws while hiding from Lincoln and Octavia.

“How do you feel about red?” Clarke called over the wall separating her and Lexa. Before she could answer, another dress flew over the wall, catching Lexa in the back as she stood with her shirt half over her head. She stumbled as the dress pooled around her legs, falling against the door of the fitting room. “Lexa? You okay?”

“Stop throwing dresses at me, Clarke!” Out of everything Clarke did on the trip that Lexa expected to kill her, the little touches, the sleeping together when they really weren’t forced to, the hand holding in the streets, the actually kissing her back, a dress was the last thing Lexa expected to be the literal death of her. At least she had the sense to put her pants on first; even in death, she’d be mortified to have Clarke walk in on her half naked.

“Quit being stubborn and I’ll consider it.” The sound of Clarke zipping the back of her dress floated over the wall separating them. Lexa buttoned the shirt and shrugged the blazer over her shoulders, giving herself a final glance over in the mirror. Anya wasn’t the only Woods who knew how to dress; she’d prove that to Clarke too.

Lexa knocked on Clarke’s door, ignoring another barrage of whistles and lewd comments coming from Raven and Anya as they caught sight of her. Clarke cracked the door open, peeking out of the sliver of space she created.

“Do you realize the wedding isn’t taking place in there, right?” Lexa teased as Clarke stayed hidden behind the door. Clarke stretched her head out further, looking around Lexa.

“Where are they?” She asked. Lexa nodded back towards the front of the store, Raven and Anya tied up in a conversation with the cashier about who knows what. Probably telling her the entire story of how they ended up in the store hours before potentially stopping a wedding taking place on the opposite end of the country from where they lived. “Tell me if this one’s too much, okay?”

Clarke stepped aside, pulling the door a few inches back so Lexa could slip inside the fitting room. The blue and black dress Clarke chose off the mannequin in the front, the same one Lexa hoped for her to pick, clung to her body, thin straps snaking around her neck. Clarke turned towards the mirror, smoothing out the dress along her waist, the crisp line dividing the blue top from the black bottom evening out.

The back of the dress went unnoticed by Lexa when Clarke first threw it over her arm, quickly buried by the mess of other dresses she chose for herself and Lexa. Two thick blue bands ran across Clarke’s back, the highest one following the curve of the bottom of her shoulder blades; a solid strip of blue ran from the back of her neck to the bottom of the dress, connecting the straps around her neck. This had to be payback for the stunt in the hotel room earlier. Clarke looked over her shoulder at Lexa, an all too guilty smirk playing on her lips. Lexa silently thanked Clarke for not letting the two knuckleheads outside see the dress first; she could already hear their accusations of her making heart eyes, an accusation Clarke wouldn’t let her deny, seeing Lexa’s reflection in the mirror as she took in the sight of Clarke’s nearly entirely exposed back.

“What do you think?”

Things. Lots of things. Things that would put even Anya and Raven’s comments to shame. Mostly awe struck things, wondering how Clarke could go from sleeping in a jail cell to looking like she spent the whole morning and afternoon prepping for the wedding with just a twenty minute shower and some light make-up she did in the car as they drove out of the hotel. If anyone at the wedding thought Clarke looked half as stunning as Lexa did, their cover wouldn’t last a minute into the ceremony, let alone the reception. All eyes would be on Clarke, and Lexa by her side; Octavia might actually kill them for that.

“Lex?” Clarke waved her hand in front of Lexa’s face. Lexa hadn’t even noticed her turn around. Her gaze bounced between Clarke and her reflection in the mirror. “Seriously? You drool when you’re awake too?”

“What? No I don’t!” Lexa wiped at the corners of her mouth, just in case. She could see her own face flush red in the mirror as Clarke laughed at her.

“Calm down,” Clarke consoled her, reaching up to fix the collar of Lexa’s shirt as it stuck over the back of her jacket. Her hands fell on Lexa’s shoulders as she looked up at her; Lexa owed Anya for letting her borrow her boots, Anya opting for a new pair of heels to go with her dress. “Maybe you were right about the dresses. I like this on you.”

Lexa’s “I told you so” stuck in her throat as Clarke slipped a hand behind her neck, scratching at her hairline. Clarke toyed with the top button of Lexa’s blazer, pressing closer against her until her palm lay flat on Lexa’s stomach over her shirt.

It took Clarke tilting up on her toes and brushing the tip of her nose against Lexa’s for her to consider doing something with her hands besides pressing them against the fitting room wall. One hand settled at Clarke’s hip, the tips of her fingers brushing up past the material around her waist to the rectangle of bare skin marked off by the rest of the dress; the other cupped the side of Clarke’s face, thumb brushing over her cheek before Clarke pushed against Lexa in a heated kiss.

Nearly all thoughts about getting to the wedding and their strict schedule disappear from Lexa’s mind as Clarke pushed her further against the wall. Worries about having to side with Anya if she tried to object in the middle of the ceremony slipped from her mind, her entire focus shifting to Clarke’s trail of kisses down the side of her neck, down to the collar she just fixed. The door stop digging into her back stopped bothering her, even as it hit the same spot already rubbed sore from sleeping with the gear shift pressing into her back.

Clarke’s nails dragged across the back of Lexa’s neck as she bit at the skin just below her collar. Wearing one of the dresses Clarke picked, their secret would have been blown, Anya or Raven spotting the bruise growing at the base of Lexa’s throat the second they stepped out of the room. Clarke eased up on the bite, placing an open mouth kiss to it before pulling away.

Content to let Clarke take control, but too impatient to wait for her to make her next move, Lexa pulled at her hip, fingers pressing into the small of Clarke’s back. Clarke pulled Lexa’s head back to meet hers, gasping as Lexa sank her teeth into her bottom lip.

“Oh wow. I’m so shocked. Clarke and Lexa at it again.” Anya’s monotone voice filled the room as the fitting room door flung open, nearly smacking Lexa. She jumped out of the way at the last second, Clarke backing against the opposite wall. Clarke rubbed at her lip, pulling her hand away to check for blood. Anya’s sudden appearance scared Lexa into taking the lip biting a little too far, probably taking a layer or two of skin off as she jumped out of the way. Anya leaned against the door frame, smirking as Lexa sank to the bench on the back wall of the room.

“You didn’t lock the door?” Lexa mumbled, face covered by her hands. The one time they were somewhere with an actual door, one that locked and guaranteed them actual privacy, and neither of them bothered to even close the door all the way, let alone lock it.

“You have hands.” Clarke answered, looking everywhere but at Anya.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re very well acquainted with Lexa's hands,” Anya teased. Lexa swung her leg out, trying to catch Anya in the shin with her own boots. Anya stepped out of the way, walking backwards out of the fitting room. “Can we at least pay for those outfits before you two tear them off each other?”

Raven joined Anya in the doorway, looking between a still very ashamed Clarke and Lexa.

“Damn it, they were still clothed when you found them?” Anya nodded, sending Raven grumbling as she fished through her pockets, pulling out her wallet and handing a crumpled five dollar bill to Anya.

“Stop betting on us!” Clarke yelled as the pair walked away. Clarke slipped her hand in Lexa’s pulling it away from her face, leading her back into the rest of the store. Anya and Raven waited by the registers, both of the employees looking all too thankful for the group to be on their way out of the store. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

 

With their clothes payed for, they ran down the block to the parking lot. Anya took hold of the keys, knowing she’d be able to make it back up the twisted roads to the resort faster than anyone else. Nobody objected, even if they secretly feared for their life going up the hills for a second time with Anya behind the wheel.

“Just so you know, these outfits are your Christmas gifts from me.” Anya added as everyone climbed inside the car, a hefty new charge sitting on her credit card. “Lexa, enjoy unwrapping Clarke under the tree tonight.”

“Will you please shut up and drive?”

Anya sped out of the parking lot, tearing through the streets like she was after some high profile criminal in a squad car. As long as it didn’t end with her tackling Lincoln as he walked down the aisle and handcuffing him on the ground, Lexa wasn’t about to complain. Anya’s driving practically guaranteed them a spot at the back of the venue, where they could watch and wait to spring into action as unnoticed as possible.

“So, does the whole objecting if it sounds fake thing apply to us too?” Raven gestured between her and Clarke in the backseat. Lexa hadn’t even thought that Raven might not approve of Lincoln. With as much time as he spent around her and her roommates, she assumed she knew he was trustworthy, capable of keeping Octavia level headed. Raven trusted Lexa, and whatever she had with Anya built up something that oddly resembled trust and appreciation, but seeing the less calm sides of his sisters might still have her worried.

“If you think that’s the best option.” Lexa looked back in the mirror at the two of them. Raven nodded, accepting that she still had a choice. Clarke locked eyes with Lexa. Clarke’s words from the night before made her think that if she and Anya stood in objection, Clarke would too.

Anya merged to the on ramp of the freeway, slamming on the brakes the second they crested over the top of the ramp. Raven rubbed at her neck where the seatbelt dug into her throat, half choked threats about Anya buying new brake pads when they got home slipping out between coughs.

“What’s going on?” Clarke leaned between the front seats, her question answered as she looked through the windshield. All four lines of highway came to a dead crawl, stretching for miles in front of them. The needle on the speedometer crept towards the fifteen mile an hour mark as Anya merged between two cars, locking them in the middle of the traffic jam.

Further down the road, Lexa could see a sign boasting the list of exits coming up. If they got off the freeway, they could run up the side streets most of the way towards the base of the hills; it’d take longer, but they still had an hour and a half to get there.

Lexa’s heart sank, the next exit lying nearly three miles ahead of them. Anya gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as she tried to find a reason for the traffic; an accident up ahead, construction blocking the lane, anything besides too many people rushing in the same direction. She slammed her first against the steering wheel, the horn joining the chorus of other cars honking around them. Clarke squeezed Lexa’s shoulder before she fell back into her seat next to Raven. All they could do was wait as they inched towards the next exit.

 

“It’s five ‘til six. They’re still at the resort.” Raven called out, sliding her phone back in one of the pockets inside her jacket. They’d managed to sneak off the freeway, the side streets just as crowded. By the time they reached the road leading back up to the resort, they still had a half hour drive up there, twenty with Anya’s driving.

“We might still make it.” Clarke suggested. Weddings never started on time anyways. If they got lucky, Octavia would lose a shoe or a veil or a bridesmaid would go missing and stall the ceremony for a few minutes. Maybe the officiant was still stuck on the freeway, trapped between a couple of eighteen wheelers with no way of getting off and taking the side roads like they did.

“We don’t even know where the reception is.” Anya reminded them. With no formal invitation, they’d have to either get Anya to slap her accent back on and sweet talk a receptionist, or run around checking every spot that usually hosted receptions. By the time they narrowed it down, the ceremony could be over, the vows read, rings slipped on fingers, and the documents signed.

“Yeah we do,” Clarke said. She held her phone over to Raven, both grinning at whatever was on the screen. “You saw that spot on there, right?”

“Sure did.” Raven had checked the website for the resort earlier, when Anya first planned their stake out. She read off a list of sites on the property that people could book for receptions; a private beach, a couple of ballrooms on the lower levels of the grounds. Clarke held her phone out to Lexa and Anya.

“Looks like she took a page out of Raven’s book.” Clarke said, Octavia’s Instagram pulled up on the screen. Her last post filled the screen, a picture of a wooden stage sat in front of several rows of chairs, a view of the lake behind it, mountains in the background. Trees framed a small altar built on the stage, a thin grouping of trees further down the hill below the stage. Half of the seats were already filled, the backs of people's heads not revealing them as anyone related to the siblings.

**_octablake_ ** _It’s about damn time this thing gets started **@lincolnlogs**_

The caption followed the picture, Octavia not even attempting to cover her tracks. She figured they would see it, already heading back to DC, too far away to be able to turn around and intervene, never guessing they were right down the road. The picture fueled Anya’s fire, her foot pressing down on the gas pedal, closing the last few miles between them and the wedding.


	17. Lake Arrowhead, California Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the answer to a long awaited question.

“Listen up ladies, strategy time.” Anya yelled over the radio as she careened around another corner on the road. They passed the ten mile marker from the resort right at six, Anya handling the curves of the road like a Formula 1 driver. If she ever stopped feeling the cop thing, she might have a legit shot at professional racing.

“Griffin, what’s our ETA?”

Clarke had been in charge of keeping tabs on the GPS. Lexa was sure it was more of an attempt to feed Anya’s ego than to make sure they were on the right path. Only one road led up the hills to the resort, signs plastered all over the side of the road pointing them the right way. They couldn’t get lost if they tried.

“Twenty minutes.” Clarke answered, relying on her phone instead of the map she’d been working on the entire trip. Anya’s breakdown left a gaping crater in the middle of southern California, their path falling off of an edge of shredded paper.

Twenty minutes translated to ten in Anya time. Assuming they made it to the resort in one piece, Lexa owed Anya thanks for getting them there mostly on time. She knew any members of their family in attendance would stroll in late as well; the only ones who showed up at the pre-arranged meeting place before their father’s funeral on time were Lexa, her siblings, and their mother, largely contributed to by the fact that the meeting place was their actual house.

“Reyes, you got that picture pulled up?”

Raven nodded, blowing up the overhead map of the resort as large as she could on her phone. Even through the pixelated picture, she could make out the area Octavia took the picture at, the deck and chairs set up on the northeast end of the property, overlooking the lake.

“We can’t get to the lawn directly from the parking lot,” Raven scrolled the picture over, the entire area blocked off by trees and concrete walls. “We park in the main lot, run straight through the lobby, and there should be doors leading straight out.”

“No intel on the interior? Hallways, ballrooms, anything?”

“Negative, General.” Anya’s detailed planning made the nickname make a whole lot more sense. If she commanded her group of bikers half as much as she did their entrance to the wedding, they could have taken over the entire city. Their reunion must have reignited her passion for bossing people around, besides her siblings; if it carried over, she’d be police chief by the end of the year. Or running back to reclaim her desert territory and lead her crew again.

“We’ll work around it. And Reyes,” Raven looked up as Anya turned around in her seat, paused at a stop sign. “You can call me General as much as you like.”

A lone thud sounded over the radio, Lexa’s head meeting the dashboard. Minutes before they busted into their brother’s wedding, Anya still had to make time to hit on Raven. Lexa was half convinced that Anya didn’t even like Raven, simply putting on the act knowing how uncomfortable it made her.

“You guys broke Lexa. Again.” Clarke said, reaching over Lexa’s seat, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her upright again. Anya chuckled to herself, far too proud of how easy it was to disturb Lexa. It’d be a long time before she got in a car with Anya again willingly, let alone with Raven around to provoke her.

“Why don’t I have an assignment in your grand scheme?” Lexa asked, knowing damn well she was capable of going through with a simple plan like this one; she already did more than enough getting them this far, one more task wouldn’t kill her.

“Little Lex, you have the most important job of them all,” Anya grabbed Lexa’s hand, clutching it against her chest. She squeezed, practically trying to snap the bones in Lexa’s hand. “You get to carry my handcuffs.”

 

They pulled into the parking lot of the resort minutes later, the tires and Raven squealing as Anya slid into one of the few spots open at the back of the lot. Ignoring how Raven tacked on new tires to the ever growing list of things Anya had to replace when they got home, the group set off across the parking lot. Clarke voiced her regrets about picking up a pair of heels before they made it halfway to the door, Anya joining in as her sprint slowed to a jog.

Not wanting to attract attention from the receptionist at the desk, probably the same one Anya tricked into giving away the wedding details earlier, they slowed to a walk outside the lobby doors, trying to catch their breath before heading in.

“Please tell me you two can act natural for five minutes.” Clarke begged, looking at Raven and Anya. Raven shoved her hands in her pocket, the outline of what looked suspiciously like the wrench she’d been carrying around visible through her pants. Anya twirled the handcuffs over her fingers again, silently stuffing them in Lexa’s coat pocket as Clarke glared at her. Raven held her arm out, Anya linking hers through it, the two posing in front of Clarke like two high schoolers being thrown in the middle of the front yard for obligatory pre-prom photos.

Clarke nodded and waved them through the doors, trailing behind them to keep them from making a break for it once they passed the main desk. Or pull any more hidden weapons out. The switchblade she left Lexa had gone missing while she showered in the hotel, probably hidden in one of Raven’s jacket pockets, or strapped to Anya’s thigh with a garter belt.

With the two safely in sight of the security guard near the door, Lexa took Clarke’s hand, leading her through the door. They passed the receptionist, exchanging small smiles as he welcomed them to the resort. She and Clarke must have made a convincing enough couple for him not to question if they were checking into a room or not, assuming they were there for one of the weddings taking place and were well aware of where they were headed.

Anya and Raven waited near the couch and fireplace in the lobby, looking around for a door leading outside. One hall led to a breakfast area, another to the open staircase up to the floors with the actual suites.

“It had to be that way.” Raven pointed down the last hall, multiple sets of double doors lining the walls, leading into the different banquet halls.

“We could just ask.” Lexa reminded the group as they made their way over. Just because they looked like they knew what they were doing there wouldn’t mean they would look suspicious if they asked for directions. If Lincoln and Octavia were dedicated to keeping them away from the wedding, they would have plastered pictures of them across the entire resort urging people to call security if they were seen on the property.

Anya and Raven took to opposite sides of the hall, checking the corners of each open doorway, making up nonsense hand signals to mark the room as clear. Lexa mumbled under her breath as she and Clarke passed them, ignoring their whispered warnings about blowing their cover, the two wannabe FBI agents overlooking the small plaques next to each room.

One of the open rooms, Mount Weather Corporation labeled on the plaque, hosted organized lines of tables and chairs. A projection screen had been set up in the front, likely for some corporate business meeting being held earlier that day or the next morning. The next room was locked shut, muffled R&B music heard through the door, the Sinclair wedding taking place on the other side.

Lexa stopped in front of one of the rooms at the end of the hall. Clarke walked straight into her, looking confused as Lexa stared inside the room. Hotel staff wheeled round tables in on their sides, setting them up around the left hand side of the room. Windows lined the walls, the lake and trees visible through them. The opposite side of the room held a small dance floor, three people walking around the small stage behind it, setting up speakers and moving a drum set towards the back of the stage.

Anya and Raven joined the pair as they watched the room get set up. Raven tapped on the plaque next to the door _“Lake View Hall: Blake Reception”_ printed in a looping font. Lexa craned her head to the side, trying to see if the wedding was visible through the windows. Clarke urged her to keep moving; if the reception hadn’t been set up yet, they still had time to make it to the ceremony. For the first time since the entire trip started, they were on time, if being fifteen minutes late to the wedding counted as on time.

They turned the corner, one wing of the hall leading towards the spa part of the resort, the other to a wood and glass door leading outside. They booked it through the door, walking out onto a small patio littered with umbrella covered tables and chairs. The outside of the resort fell silent, aside from the waves of the lake crashing on the shore and a soft orchestra playing behind the trees.

Clarke led the group towards the music, stopping as they reached a clearing between the trees. The sidewalk led around the building, another door visible on the other side. A small crowd of people gathered on the lawn between the building and the rows of chairs, the deck and altar from the picture front and center. More people sat in the chairs than when Octavia posted the picture, most of the audience still standing around and talking to one another.

“You think we missed it already?” Clarke asked, the group still hiding by the trees.

“I’ve never had the fortune of sitting through a fifteen minute wedding.” Lexa answered, flashbacks of Aunt Nia’s two hour ceremony popping up, trapped in a stuffy church with no air conditioning in the middle of summer. She begged for one of them to get struck with heatstroke so their parents would rush them to the hospital; instead they got stuck sitting through the entire ceremony and the reception in the church courtyard afterwards.

“Check it out. Still seats in the back.” Raven pointed at the last few rows of chairs. Most of the front was entirely filled up, gaps between people likely saved for some of those wandering around on the lawn.

“Let’s get over there.” Anya straightened up, relinking her arm with Raven’s as they made their way across the lawn.

“Do you recognize anyone?” Clarke asked, a few of the guests looking at them as they made their way to the chairs. Lexa took a quick look around, but nobody stood out to her. She knew their family was decently large, having relatives of some degree in nearly every state, ones she’d never even known the names of, let alone recognize if they were right in front of her. She even looked around for Indra, not seeing her anywhere.

“Maybe Lincoln didn’t tell any of our family.” Lexa suggested. Clarke shrugged, returning to her own efforts of trying to match faces to names. Lexa wondered if she or Raven had even met any of Octavia’s family, besides her brother. If he was here, they would be sure to recognize him, unless he was just as bad about interfering with Octavia’s life as Clarke and Raven were.

The pair met up with Anya and Raven, standing right behind the aisle running between the last rows of chairs. A couple brushed past them, returning to their seats as the music dropped off, soft static crackling from the speakers set up to the side of the deck and chairs.

“What are you waiting for?” Lexa hissed, the crowd gathered on the lawn making their way to the seats.

“Bride or groom’s side?” Anya asked, looking as torn in her decision as she did in the hotel room when Lexa offered her the objection deal.

“Just sit down.” Lexa led the party into the last row of seats on the left hand side. Raven sat on the far end of the row, Anya next to her. Lexa slid in next, Clarke closing the group off as a middle aged couple sat next to them. The husband eyed them as the last few guests took their seats; either he knew they didn’t actually belong there, or he was entirely put off being seated next to two couples, Clarke holding her and Lexa’s intertwined hands in her lap, Raven leaning back in her seat with her arm around Anya’s chair.

“Bell’s not here.” Clarke leaned across Anya, whispering to Raven. She tilted her head up to get a better look at the crowd, nodding to confirm Clarke’s observation. Something still didn’t sit right; not inviting roommates was one thing, but not inviting siblings to a wedding? Did Octavia just invite her entire extended family since Lincoln opted not to have any of his around?

“I swear, if you dragged us out here-“ Anya started, pushing Clarke back in her seat with the back of her arm.

“Me? You two are the ones who called.” Clarke pointed at her and Raven. She was right; they insisted they were right about Octavia and Lincoln not leaving the resort and the reservations being under Blake.

“You two could have stopped us at any time.” Raven added. Lexa rolled her eyes; she and Clarke had spent too many individual points on the trip trying to talk them out of it for Raven to use that excuse.

“Maybe if you two quit making stupid puns and innuendos you would have heard us tell you multiple times this was a stupid idea.” Clarke placed her free hand on Lexa’s arm, trying to calm her down.

“Lexa, if you don’t shut up right now, I will take those handcuffs and lock you to the first boat I see in the docks.”

The man next to Lexa coughed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat not knowing why the strange woman next to him had handcuffs on her at a wedding, or why their party chose a wedding of all moments to get into a heated debate with each other. Lexa flashed a meek apologetic smile, the man turning to whisper to his wife. Taking advantage of his distraction, she reached behind Clarke, socking Anya in the arm.

“That’s what you get.” Lexa mocked, taking Clarke’s hand in hers again. The palm of Anya’s hand smacked against the back of her head; once the stars faded from her eyes, she caught Anya sticking her tongue out at her behind Clarke’s head.

“I win, asshole.”

“Children, behave.” Raven warned as the speakers crackled, the classical music starting up again. Heads turned towards the building behind them, a set of doors opened by two hotel staff members positioned on either side of it.

The wedding party made their walk down the aisle. First the officiant, a balding middle aged man in a simple suit, perched himself at the front of the aisle, a small book clutched in his hands. His well kempt beard gave him the look of a professional, better than the Elvis impersonator Lexa anticipated for the Vegas wedding. Looks could be deceiving. For all any of them knew, he got ordained over the internet; Anya boasted her own wallet license from the Universal Life Church, offering to pay for Lexa and Lincoln to get their own ministry credentials package if they filled out the form to get ordained too.

One couple, a man and a woman, made their way across the lawn, treading over the flower petals already scattered between the sets of chairs on either side of the aisle. The woman wore a short purple dress that fell above her knees, her partner in a black tux with a matching purple tie. They took their spots at the altar, standing on the left and right sides.

The first song came to an end, a second couple appearing in the doorway of the building. They crossed the grass, the man taking small steps to keep the woman on his arm from stumbling as her heels sunk into the dirt. Lexa wondered why Lincoln didn’t come out after the officiant; maybe they opted to walk down the aisle together, in lieu of Octavia not having anyone around to give her away. She could have easily remedied that problem by inviting her brother or her roommates. Clarke and Raven would have probably walked her down the aisle together, one perched on either of her arms.

As the couple grew closer to the line of seats, the woman furrowed her brow, eyes raking over the audience. The grip she kept on her partner’s arm tightened, the man wincing in pain as he looked down on her. Lexa read his lips as he asked if she was okay, earning no response. She stared straight at the group as they headed towards the aisle.

“Oh shit.” Clarke whispered as they passed. Octavia clenched her jaw as she passed, the look on her eyes screaming murder in the very near future. The bouquet in her hands would wind up shoved down someone’s throat, her purple bridesmaid’s dress coming out looking like Anya’s pool cue before Vicente cleaned it off in the bar.

Octavia kept her gaze locked on them until she and the groomsman passed two more rows of chairs. She snapped forward, focusing on making it up the two steps onto the deck. She took her place next to the other bridesmaid, hands wringing the stems of the lilies in her hands.

The song changed again, “Canon in D” playing over the speakers. The crowd stood, shifting to face the building the wedding part had just walked out of. The group stood frozen, afraid to turn their backs on Octavia, even to watch the actual couple whose wedding they just crashed walk down the aisle. Octavia shifted attention to someone on the opposite side of the seats. Lexa followed her gaze, catching one person turning around a few seconds after everyone else.

“Oh shit.” Lexa echoed Clarke, Lincoln staring straight at them from his spot in the third row. The four of them spun around, half-heartedly pretending to pay attention to the couple walking out of the building.

“I thought you said this was a Blake wedding.” Raven whispered to Anya, the music covering her voice enough so their already judgmental neighbor didn’t catch on.

“That’s what the receptionist told me.” Anya hissed back.

“They weren’t wrong,” Clarke replied, the couple closing in on the aisle. The two brides walked hand in hand, both carrying bouquets similar to Octavia’s. One wore her hair lose, soft waves framing her face, curling ends bouncing just above the neckline of her dress . The other kept her hair pulled back in a series of braids that fell past her suspender clad shoulders. “The one with in the dress is Octavia’s cousin, Harper. Monroe’s her girlfriend. Well, wife now, apparently.”

Harper and Monroe parted at the altar, Harper handing her bouquet off to Octavia. Lincoln continued to glance over his shoulder at the wedding crashers behind them, Octavia looking like she had to physically restrain herself from looking away from the officiant or her cousins.

The officiant motioned for everyone to sit, Lexa taking full advantage of it, feeling as if her knees were about to collapse under her. Even with their seats in the back, they were trapped. They couldn’t just take off in the middle of the ceremony, bolding across the open lawn and hiding in the tree line. Octavia might blow off her duties as maid of honor and take off after them, chasing them up into a tree if they couldn’t make it to the car on time.

Of course the picture wasn’t bait. It was a normal display of excitement. Who wouldn’t be excited to have a family wedding start when they were the maid of honor; the whole “about damn time” part had probably been about Octavia running herself ragged getting things together last minute, from whatever duties she had as maid of honor to getting herself and the rest of the wedding party dressed. And of course she had tagged Lincoln in it, considering he was attending the wedding with her and probably doing just as much work to help her keep everything together.

That’s why they were on a time crunch and didn’t appreciate being dragged backwards across two states just to serve as a “welcome back from jail” party for Clarke and Anya. That’s why they didn’t bother telling them about the wedding, because if Clarke and Raven didn’t even know Octavia’s family, neither would Lincoln. That’s why Lincoln didn’t even tell them he was leaving, because if they didn’t even know about his girlfriend, they probably wouldn’t have cared that much about her extended family.

“Any plans on getting out of this one, General?” Lexa asked, fully intent on rubbing it in Anya’s face of how badly her plan blew up for the next fifty years. Every occasion she could bring it up, she would. Thanksgiving. Christmas. All of their birthdays. Lincoln and Octavia’s actual wedding. She’d even bookmark the date of Monroe and Harper’s wedding, reminding Anya every single year how they drove cross country to stop a wedding that they had no part of.

“Nope.”

“Not even a smartass comment?” Anya always had plenty of those saved up, even in the least appropriate situations.

“Nope.”

“You got us into this. Come up with something.”

“Let’s just sit back and enjoy this beautiful ceremony while we can,” Anya leaned back in her seat, pulling Raven’s arm to drape back over her shoulder. The officiant turned open his book, quoting some piece of Shakespeare that Lexa vaguely recognized from an introduction to poetry class. “Because those two are going to rip us apart the second this thing is over.”

 

The ceremony didn’t drag out, much to the group’s disappointment, their remaining time alive dwindling down to an hour. Clarke briefed Lexa on what little she knew about the couple; she’d met them both once when they came to visit Octavia and Bellamy, Harper dragging Monroe to meet her family even after just a few weeks of dating. Octavia adored them, running around the apartment screaming in excitement when Harper asked her to be their maid of honor. Lexa questioned how neither Clarke or Raven remembered her talking about going to the wedding if she was so excited; Clarke told her she talked too much and to shut up and watch the wedding.

The officiant skipped the lengthy readings about love and promising themselves to each other through the rest of their lives, letting Monroe and Harper’s vows do most of the talking. Octavia seemed to tune the entire ceremony out, eyes flickering over to the back of the seats, glaring at the group for a seconds before looking back at Harper and Monroe, all smiles as the photographer near the front snapped pictures. The second he pulled the camera away from her, focusing on a few shots of the guys standing behind Monroe, she’d be back to staring. Lincoln turned around every so often, more focused on the ceremony than Octavia was, but still making sure the group didn’t make a run for it before they got a chance to lay into them.

“Are you crying?” Clarke whispered, watching as Lexa took in a shaky breath. Monroe’s vows included a promise to fight through entire armies if it meant keeping Harper safe, threats of violence an apparent trait that ran deep in the Blake family bloodline, just like the Woods. Lexa tried to picture Lincoln and Octavia’s future vows; Octavia would vow to take his sisters out of the equation with her machete if it meant keeping her and Lincoln’s marriage together.

“What? Absolutely not.” Lexa wiped at the corner of her eyes, careful not to smudge her eyeliner or send it running down her cheeks. Anya’s carefully applied make-up already smudged around her eyes; Raven’s phone lay off to the side near the trees, having been smacked out of her hand when she tried to take a picture of Anya bawling after Harper promised to always braid Monroe’s hair, even if it did take a ridiculous amount of time in the morning.

“Hey Clarke,” Raven leaned over a still silently sobbing Anya, grinning harder when she saw Lexa sitting with her hand over her mouth, shoulders heaving as Monroe and Harper exchanged rings. “I think their _bark_ is worse than their bite.”

“Rae, not the time.” The man next to Lexa side-eyed them. At least he wasn’t someone too important to the couple like one of their fathers, judging by his spot in the far back. Clarke slapped her palm against Raven’s forehead, pushing her back across Anya’s lap and back into her seat. One of the final moments of Lexa’s life, and the last thing she’d hear was Clarke scolding Raven for her continued tree puns. Hearing Clarke defend her honor might not be that bad of a way to go, though.

The officiant called for the end of the ceremony, Octavia’s last look of happiness crossing her face as the couple kissed, making their way back down the aisle. Octavia and the best man followed them. As she passed the rows of chairs, the group no longer blocked by the heads of the other guests, she smirked at them. Lexa’s blood ran cold, imagining the hundreds of methods of torture Octavia concocted while standing near the altar. The guests watched the wedding part walk across the lawn, heading off towards the tree line where the photographer had equipment set up for a few extra photos.

While the pictures were taken, the guests slowly filtered out of the seats. Some hung around the lawn, watching Harper and Monroe pose for pictures with their family members, people running back and forth to get in the frame. Raven made a beeline for the trees, wanting her phone back before a squirrel ran off with it. Lincoln avoided walking down the aisle, only looking over his shoulder at the group as he took the long way around the seats, heading towards the group near the photographer to wait for Octavia.

“Now what?” Raven asked, returning to the group, wiping blades of grass off her screen.

“We could always just leave.” Lexa looked over at the photography group still huddled by the trees. Lincoln spoke to another man as they watched the group, Octavia jumping into Monroe and Harper’s outstretched arms for one of the pictures. If Anya and Clarke took off their heels and Raven jumped on Anya’s back, they could sprint back to the parking lot, or at least hide in the locker room near the pool until the reception kicked into full swing.

“Same path we took to get in here, okay? Ready? Break.” Anya snapped back into General mode, leading the group across the lawn. They weaved through grandparents and cousins sipping champagne, nearing the sidewalk that led back around the corner of the building. Lexa didn’t dare look over her shoulder, fearing Octavia would be right on their heels charging after them.

The heavy doors they passed through earlier were in sight. Anya stretched out her arm as she picked up her pace, tugging on the handle before slamming straight into the door. Lexa bumped into her, Raven and Clarke crashing behind them, sending Anya’s forehead against the glass.

“What the hell?” Anya groaned, rubbing her head and yanking the door handle. It shook in its frame, not budging even as Anya tugged with both hands. She propped her foot against the other side, throwing her weight backwards to try to pry it open.

“It’s locked.” Raven pulled on the other door.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Anya let go of the handle, turning around to face the rest of the group. “Oh shit.”

Lexa caught sight of the reflection in the door, not wanting to turn around. Lincoln had them cornered, blocking the sidewalk, keeping them for making a break for the door the wedding party walked through earlier.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest. Lexa’s hope of him forgiving them that formed when they said goodbye in Albuquerque flew away faster than Raven’s phone flew out of her hand.

“Funny story. See, we planned on going home, back east, right like you told us. But then we saw this place and thought hell, we’ve been sleeping in the car and in hotels where the sheets only get changed when housekeeping finds a body, why not pamper ourselves since we’re just a few hours away?”

Raven nodded eagerly at Anya’s lie. Clarke mumbled into Lexa’s ear that the two were signing their death warrants. Lexa agreed, waiting for Anya to pull the accent out again, thinking it would trick Lincoln somehow.

“We booked the whole girly spa day thing, got a fancy suite,” Raven brushed it off like it was no big deal, like they could actually afford a room in the resort and whatever spa treatments they offered. “We noticed a wedding earlier this morning and decided to have some fun tonight.”

“And wouldn’t you know it, we just happened to crash a wedding you two were at. Isn’t that hilarious, little brother? I mean, who would have-“

Lincoln dangled Anya’s phone in front of her face. The entire face of the phone was shattered, the cracks starting at the middle of the screen. Anya took the phone from him, whining as she turned it over, finding the back cover just as demolished.

“Your phone kept going off while Octavia was sleeping. She turned it off with the handle on her machete.”

“Payback.” Lexa whispered, Anya having to replace two phones when she got back to DC. Her blackmailing with the pictures of Lexa blew up in her face, right along with her plan of stalking Lincoln across the country after multiple requests not to.

“You know, it’s getting late. Octavia looks like she’s almost done with pictures, so we’re just going to get out of your way,” Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand, pulling her to the side. Anya clutched Lexa’s arm, smiling as they inched away from Lincoln. She grabbed Raven by the collar of her jacket, tugging her along. “You guys have fun at the reception, okay? Tell Octavia we love her.”

“Oh no,” Lincoln placed a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, stopping her before she got too far. Lexa glared at him until he moved his hand back to his side; if all it took to make him back off was her giving him one menacing look, they could have been home by then. “Octavia’s requesting you guys stay for the reception. Already cleared it with the brides. Head inside. We’ll catch up with you later.”

Lincoln backed away from them, rejoining the wedding party as Octavia dragged him in for a couple of shots.

“We could still run.” Raven suggested.

“No. We made our bed. Now we lie in it.” Running would only piss Octavia and Lincoln off more and turn the tables on them. Lexa imagined the horrors of being chased down by the couple; those two alone made the drive out there in nearly the same amount of time it took the four of them. Fueled by anger, Octavia would track them down through the night, kicking down their hotel room or smashing the windows on the car to attack while they slept. Raven’s tire iron and Anya’s knife wouldn’t be enough to protect them from her fury. They crashed the wedding, now they had to face the consequences.

“At least there’s witnesses for when they murder us.” Clarke commented as they followed the crowd inside the building.

 

As last minute additions to the reception, they were left standing through most of the reception. Octavia’s rage quieted, opting to focus on the conversations she had with Lincoln and the rest of the guests. They bounced from table to table, introducing Lincoln to aunt and uncles and cousins, occasionally interrupted by Monroe to meet someone from her side of the family.

“Check it out.” Raven elbowed Anya in the ribs as they leaned against the wall, waiting for the dinner service to end. She nodded towards a squared off corner of the room, behind the last set of tables draped with cloths. A few smaller tables and chairs sat in the small square, a long counter stretching between the walls flanking it.

“Please let it be an open bar.” Anya and Raven scampered off without another word. By the time Octavia and Lincoln decided to extract their revenge, the two would be too plastered to remember why they were mad in the first place.

“I can’t believe this actually happened.” Clarke mumbled, watching the two toast each other before tossing back the first of a line of shots placed in front of them.

“Which part?” She could have meant anything. The fact that they actually drove across the country with complete strangers. Or how they legitimately thought they would have to storm into a building and stop a wedding twice over the course of the trip. The whole getting arrested with one of said strangers because they were trying to defend her best friend thing. Or winding up getting all too close to the sister of said cell mate and still wanting to spend time with them when everything finally ended.

Octavia stood at the front of the room, clinking a knife against her champagne flute before taking a microphone from Monroe’s best man. Clarke’s answered halted on her lips as Octavia started speaking, reading off a note card she pulled out of the top of her dress. Lexa looked on as Lincoln watched Octavia from their table, offering small smiles and nods of encouragement when she stumbled over her words or squinted trying to read what she had written next on the card.

“This whole wedding has been a little crazy. People are seeing a lot of things they didn’t expect to be seeing,” Octavia said, crumbling the note card up and throwing it over her shoulder. Either she found better words to choose, or her handwriting had become too illegible to attempt to follow. By things people didn’t expect, did she mean whatever took place getting ready before the wedding, with all the friends and family members coming together, or the sudden crashing of her roommates and Lincoln’s sisters, who nobody seemed to question? “I mean, Harper, you and Monroe are two of the last people I expected to wind up together.”

Octavia looked around the room, not noticing Anya and Raven pressed against the wall separating the bar from the rest of the room. Anya had her arms slung around Raven’s waist, head leaning against the top of Raven’s. Either the alcohol hit them faster than usual, or they were absolute suckers for acting like a couple in rooms of mostly strangers. Maybe she did notice, still too scarred by their display of affection in Albuquerque to risk looking at them again.

She shifted towards Lexa and Clarke, the only other couple besides Raven and Anya that surprised her more than her cousin and her new bride. Lexa stood with her back against the wall, leg bent with the sole of Anya’s only slightly cleaned boot pressed against the fancy wallpaper of the hall. Clarke leaned against Lexa’s front, hands splayed over Lexa’s as they settled over her stomach. For a split second, Lexa thought she saw Octavia nod in approval as Clarke leaned her head back on Lexa’s shoulder.

“However weird it is, you two are stuck together for life,” Octavia raised her glass, the other guests following. Raven and Anya held up the empty shot glasses in their hands, already a few toasts ahead of Octavia. “To Monroe and Harper, and all the beautiful insanity your lives have ahead.”

Octavia turned to hug them both before heading back to the table with Lincoln. Lexa looked back at the corner Anya had been hanging around, her and Raven nowhere to be seen, already hitting another round at the bar. She really hoped it was an open bar, that the two weren’t running up a tab on the same card Anya used to book their hotel for the night, and that they’d use some of the money they kept handing off in the bets about her and Clarke to leave the bartended a nice tip for putting up with them.

 

Sometime after the band playing the song for Monroe and Harper’s first dance, a slow acoustic Elle King song, other guests filled the dance floor. Raven and Anya opted out, sitting at one of the small tables near the bar laughing together and sharing kisses when they thought no one was looking; Lexa naturally was, noticing the absence of drinks coming to their table after their first hour at the table.

Lexa returned to her and Clarke’s spot along the wall, managing to snag two flutes of champagne from a waiter on the other side of the room. An older man, probably a great uncle of Octavia’s or someone’s grandfather, had her locked in a conversation. Clarke breathed a sigh of relief when Lexa returned, downing the champagne in a single gulp; how bad had their conversation gotten in the two minutes Lexa had stepped away? Did Clarke just get offered a sugar daddy or something?

“He thinks I’m one of Octavia’s cousins. Play along.” Clarke whispered to Lexa, passing it off as a thank you kiss on the cheek.

“Cassie, is this your wife?” He took Lexa’s face in his hands, nearly snapping her neck as he tried to angle her face to get a good look in the dim light of the room. “She’s beautiful, Cass! But uh, what happened to that nice fella you brought last Easter?”

“He’s old news, Uncle Fabian,” she snuck her arm around Lexa’s waist, covering their left hands before he noticed the lack of rings. “Tatiana’s the one for me now.”

“Tatiana? What is that, Russian? Polish? Where’d you come from?”

Lexa started to answer, already storming up a decent backstory for Tatiana and Cassie’s relationship. Clarke thought she was able to come up with a decent cover story at the grocery store. It didn’t compare to what Lexa thought up; Cassie took a late vacation with Easter Date on the shores of Capri, meeting Tatiana as she worked on the docks of Marina Grande. Easter Date was quickly dropped in favor of a few days travelling the coast line on Tatiana’s boat she’d been restoring on her own since her grandfather left it to her in his will. When her vacation came to an end, Cassi tossed the shredded remains of her boarding pass into the water, setting off for another week at sea with Tatiana before eloping on the very dock they met the evening they returned.

“You know, she’s not that great with English yet.” Clarke clamped Lexa’s mouth shut. Lexa frowned, having put too much work in their backstory for Clarke to just cut her off. Clarke rattled off a few random Italian sounding words, something about gelato and Sicily; Lexa nodded in agreement, flashing a smile at Fabian.

“Fabian, quit harassing Cassie and get back to the table.” An older woman wandered over, swinging her can dangerously close to them as she tried to usher Fabian away. He left them with a kiss on each of their cheeks, Lexa absolutely confused at what she just got dragged into.

“I don’t speak English?” That was the best Clarke could come up with? Lexa could have thrown on a thick Italian accent at least. She reminded herself to ask Octavia for pictures of Cassie in a few months, once the memories of the wedding crashing died down, wondering just how much Clarke resembled her to have family members coming up to her.

“Shut up,” Clarke took their champagne flutes, placing them on the nearest empty table. The band switched songs, playing a slower one Lexa might have recognized from one of Clarke’s hundreds of playlists. “Let’s go dance.”

Lexa let Clarke drag her towards the corner of the dance floor, slipping between couples until they were safe inside the crowd. She did a quick check, making sure Octavia wasn’t lurking in the shadows with a broken bottle of champagne, ready to strike the second one of them turned their back on her. Clarke scoffed, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s neck.

“Do you ever think about anything besides Octavia killing us?” Clarke teased as Lexa wrapped her arms back around her waist, pulling Clarke closer to her.

“Would you rather I think about how we’re apparently married now?” At least Tatiana and Cassie were married. Hopefully Clarke’s scheme didn’t have too many lasting implications. Lexa imagined the look of confusion when Uncle Fabian accosted the real Cassie at the next family gathering, especially if she brought the Easter Date with her instead of her wife.

“You made a good girlfriend in Oklahoma, why waste time?”

“Are we going to have a kid by the time we get back to DC?” Clarke nodded, moving one of her hands to cover her stomach.

“I think it’s a girl. Got any names picked out yet?”

“How about Allison?”

“Allison Woods-Griffin. Not too bad.” Griffin-Woods had a better ring to it, but Lexa let Clarke have her moment. They watched Harper and Monroe dance in the center of the floor, Octavia and Lincoln behind them on the opposite corner. Octavia looked up at Lincoln, smiling at him for no apparent reason other than him leading them as they danced. Lexa softened to the idea of them being together, seeing her brother look just as happy with her.

Clarke rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder as they swayed together. The band stuck to a slower mood for the moment; one song with Clarke turned to two, then three, her head still pressed against her chest. A few times she thought Clarke had fallen asleep, only to be assured she was wide awake with a brush of Clarke’s nose against her neck or a kiss pressed below her ear. Other couples jostled against them as the dance floor became more crowded, neither of them paying much attention to anyone around them.

“I’m glad you came.” Lexa mumbled half into Clarke’s head. She looked up, taken back by Lexa’s sudden comment. Her and Anya alone wouldn’t have made it out of DC alone without Clarke and Raven; even if they had, they would have given up somewhere around Virginia, likely because they got into too big of a fight to stand being in the car together. Clarke made it bearable with her and Raven’s antics. They saved their asses a time or two, Anya and Lexa returning the favor. They might have nearly ruined a wedding and pissed off Lincoln and Octavia to no end, but Lexa considered doing it all over again with present company.

“Me too.” Clarke reached up, locking in a gentle kiss with Lexa as they danced. They parted after a few seconds, pressing their foreheads together. Memories of the hotel in Tennessee filled Lexa’s mind; instead of another “not yet” Clarke offered her a smile and another kiss.

“Hey,” Someone whispered behind Lexa. She pulled away from Clarke, looking around for whoever spoke. Anya and Raven stood next to them, Raven smirking as she danced with Anya, one arm slung behind her neck, the other batting Lexa and Clarke in the arm. “That’s what she said.”

“Go away, Raven.” Clarke said, taking the lead to turn her and Lexa in the opposite direction. Clarke froze, the hand that snaked its way into Lexa hair grasping around a handful. Lexa yelped as Clarke unintentionally tugged at it, finding Octavia and Lincoln right next to them. They were stuck between a bad pun spitting rock and a machete wielding hard place; Lexa opted for the puns, looking over her shoulder, only to see Raven and Anya booking it out of the hall completely. Lincoln took off after them, determined to bring them back into the conversation, leaving Clarke and Lexa to face the wrath of Octavia alone.


	18. Lake Arrowhead, California Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of the road trip (minus a bonus chapter coming up).  
> Huge thanks to everyone who supported this, the first fic I bothered finishing, let alone updating.  
> Here's to hopes you'll stick around for some later projects I have planned.  
> tumblr: commandermari

“You know, I came over here all excited to see my cousin Cassie and her new wife Tatiana. Instead I’m looking at you two sad sacks. Explain.” Octavia tapped her foot on the wooden panels of the dance floor. Lexa looked over her shoulder, hoping someone around them would notice and intervene. Octavia had good timing though, nearly all eyes locked on Harper and Monroe dancing with their parents.

“I think Uncle Fabian needs to get his glasses checked.”

“Clarke,” Octavia stepped closer, Clarke still clinging to Lexa like a personal shield. If Octavia started swinging, Lexa was done for. Octavia would spare Clarke; Lexa not so much. “Just tell me why you guys followed us here.”

“We thought you were getting married.”

“In Vegas.” Lexa clarified.

“And then we found out you guys were here, and there was a Blake wedding, and we totally forgot about Harper, so we thought it was you guys and we screwed up.”

“This is not a screw up. A screw up was the time we went horseback riding and you fell off and Raven got stuck on top of a horse. This is you two being worse than Bellamy. Notice how he isn’t here stalking me?”

“Maybe he’s just better at hiding than we are.”

“No, he’s home. Like a normal person who trusts me to make my own decisions.”

“Octavia, we do trust you, it’s just-“

“If you trust me, then why are you here? You know I wouldn’t do something like get married without telling you or Raven.”

Lexa looked down at the floor, unable to shake off the feeling of Octavia glaring at her and Clarke. She and Lincoln were too much alike in their reactions; or maybe Anya and her were too much like Clarke and Raven in how they jumped to the worst possible conclusions.

“Come on, you guys saw us in New Mexico and we were fine. Why’d you even bother coming after us again?”

“It’s mine and Anya’s fault.” Lexa looked up at Octavia, even if it made her stomach sink and her life start flashing before her eyes again.

“Please explain so I can start thinking of how I’ll get my revenge on you two instead of my genius roommates.”

“Anya had been coming up with places she thought you were going and none of them checked out. I made a comment about you guys going to Vegas and it made the most sense based off of the direction you were heading, so we went with it. Then the jail happened, and I had absolutely nothing to do with the phone thing, but Anya already went and did it by the time we realized what happened.”

It should have felt like a weight was lifted off of her chest and was finally letting her breathe. But Octavia’s frown left Lexa feeling worse than before she opened her mouth. Every word seemed to dig them deeper into a hole, ruining their chances of ever being forgiven.

Octavia uncrossed her arms, resting her forehead in the palm of her hand, blocking her face. Lexa felt for Clarke’s hand, ready to drag her along if she had to bolt across the reception hall before Octavia turned on them both. She pulled her hand from her face, laughing as she looked at the panicked looks on both their faces.

“What did you think, we were going to get married in the same chapel as Britney Spears did?”

“Yes,” Clarke answered. “By an Elvis impersonator.”

Octavia’s laughter grew louder, no longer muffled by the music. A few heads turned towards them, her family members quickly brushing it off. Either they’d seen Octavia slip into hysterical laughter before brutally attacking someone and were no longer phased by it, or they didn’t want to be questioned by the police later as direct witnesses of Clarke and Lexa’s murders.

“You guys are the dumbest people I have ever met.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she clutched her stomach, gasping for breath. She couldn’t breathe, the oxygen was going to cut off from her brain, and all rational decision making abilities would cease until she was standing over their horribly massacred bodies. Any second Lexa expected her to look up and snap their necks.

Octavia turned towards the door, Lincoln standing there with his arm around an equally out of breath Anya. He waved for her to come over. She took a step backward, raising an eyebrow when Clarke didn’t move. Clarke didn’t witness the Raven chase around the car though; Octavia had stamina, and she knew the layout of the hotel better than either of them. Lexa followed Octavia to Lincoln, even as Clarke whispered protests behind her.

“Where the hell is Raven?” Clarke noticed the presence missing at Anya’s side. Likely floating face down in the lake behind the building, Lexa assumed.

“She’s hiding in the car with the pool cue.” Anya answered, having ran out to the parking lot before Lincoln caught up to them. With Lincoln at the door waiting for them, Anya sacrificed herself, arming Raven with her beloved pool cue in case she didn’t come back. The two were pretty much engaged at that point. Forget Lincoln and Octavia’s wedding, Anya and Raven were probably going to disappear on their own trip, heading back down to Albuquerque to elope with Vicente running the show, cracking another pool cue over someone’s head, and riding off into the sunset on a stolen motorcycle.

“Please tell me you three can explain why you’re here.” Lincoln requested.

“Oh, I can do that. They thought we went to Vegas to get married. Then they thought we planned out an entire wedding here and didn’t invite them.” Octavia filled in the gaps for Lincoln, unable to get through the whole story without howling in laughter again.

“That wouldn’t be the worst idea,” Everyone’s eyes widened at the suggestion. Octavia smacked Lincoln in the chest with the back of her hand. “Not the getting married part! I meant not inviting them if we did.”

“Jesus, Lincoln. Don’t give me a heart attack like that.” Octavia clutched at her chest. Her terror at the idea of an engagement was a good sign. No more Vegas weddings interrupting the rest of Lexa’s summer vacation. It also snapped her out of her hysterics, giving Lexa what might have been a false sense of safety.

“You could have just asked if we were getting married.” Lincoln said, as if he would have just casually admitted that yes, he did in fact run off to elope without even telling his sisters the name of his future wife. Hearing that would have kicked Anya into overdrive, dragging Lexa onto the next flight out to wherever they planned on getting married, waiting with a full police barricade blocking their way.

“What, and miss out on all the fun?” Anya waved around the room, acting as if they had gone straight from Point A to Point B without a thousand things going wrong.

“Yeah, speaking of fun,” Octavia paused, looking at Clarke. “What the hell was going on at all those little stops along the way?”

Clarke tried to drop Lexa’s hand and slip hers behind her back; Octavia noticed the second her hand twitched, Clarke gripping Lexa’s hand tighter as Octavia watched them.

“Just, you know. Little things we got distracted by.”

Octavia’s eyes met Clarke’s. Then Lexa’s. Then fell down to their coordinated outfits and their hands. Lexa tried not to laugh as she retraced the path a few times, the wheels in her head turning until it finally clicked. Octavia couldn't have cared less about Raven getting her dinosaur pictures or Clarke seeing painted Volkswagens after seeing the small gesture between the two of them.

“Oh my god, you guys are sleeping together.”

“What?” Lexa yelled, somewhat insulted by the way Octavia groaned and tilted her head back when she said it. There were worse things happening in the world than her best friend sleeping with her boyfriend’s sister; Lexa had to admit, the thought sounded weird, even in her own mind, so maybe Octavia wasn’t that far off. If the tables turned, her and Clarke getting together first, she’d be a little concerned Lincoln was running around with Clarke’s roommate, especially after hearing the stories of everything Octavia got into.

“We’re not sleeping together.” Clarke assured her. Lexa swore she caught Clarke mouth the words “not yet” at the end of her sentence; whether they were meant for her or Octavia to catch, she didn’t question. Instead she focused on trying not to pass out at the idea of her and Clarke’s relationship reaching that point.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Raven and Anya are, though.” Clarke tacked the extra information on just as Octavia breathed a sigh of relief.

Lincoln snapped his head to turn towards Anya. She held her ground, challenging him to say something about it. The less heat on Lexa and Clarke, the better. Anya smirked as Lincoln tried to come up with a response, scratching at the scruff on his chin, opening and closing his mouth a few times, no words falling out.  The only way Anya could enjoy his confusion even more was if Raven unlocked herself from her hiding space in the car, walked back up, and dragged Anya into a kiss like the one they were all forced to watch after Raven gave her the pool cue.

The smirk fell off her face as Octavia stepped between them. She jutted her chin up, still nearly a head shorter than Anya in her heels. It payed off, Anya backing against the wall, desperate to put some distance between them. Unlike in her scuffle with Raven in the parking lot, Lincoln let her be, feigning distraction as he watched the band playing behind them.

“You’re sleeping with my best friend?”

“Define sleeping.” Anya tried to divert the question. All Octavia had to do was turn to Clarke for that definition, more qualified to give a detailed account of what happened in the bed next to her before she found solace in Lexa’s bed.

“You hurt Raven, and I will do to your face what I did to your phone.”

“She’s safe, I promise.” Anya held her hands up as Octavia poked her in the sternum. Lexa didn’t even try to hide her amusement, bursting out laughing at the sight. Anya, the biker turned cop, roadside brawler, knife wielding, pool cue breaking, master of all things intimidation, the damn General, finally meeting her match in the form of a tiny, angry bridesmaid. Clarke elbowed Lexa in the ribs, trying to shut her up as she nearly doubled over laughing.

Lexa opened her eyes, trying to catch her breath, only to be met with Octavia inches away from her. Lexa’s heart jumped to her throat; she already pissed Octavia off once by calling Lincoln and dragging them back to New Mexico. Now that she realized she was involved with Clarke, Lexa knew there was a threat coming. Probably Octavia tying her to the back of her soon to be acquired motorcycle and dragging her up and down the street if she ever hurt Clarke.

“You might be the normal, responsible one,” At least Lincoln had told her that much about his sisters that she knew the difference. It could also be that she’s the one that Octavia hadn’t witnessed being escorted out of a jail. “And maybe you might be a good influence on Clarke.”

“I’m not that bad, Octavia.” Clarke reminded her.

“Just because you quit playing Edward Forty Hands with me and Raven on weekends doesn’t make you a saint.”

Clarke completely neglected to mention any of those stories along the way; she avoided Lexa’s stare, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to bring it up the second they had a minute to sit down and talk, be it in the hotel or in the car the next morning.

“Point is,” Octavia turned back to Lexa, crossing her arms. “Don’t let her do anything stupid. Or let her make you do anything stupid.”

“Like driving across the country looking for you two?” Anya may have started the plan running off with Lincoln’s Clarke, but Clarke threw the offer of joining up on the table. Clarke pushed for it, even when nearly everyone else objected. Lexa had more to worry about Clarke dragging her back into impossible situations than people expected.

Octavia gave a small chuckle, nodding her head.

“Exactly.”

“Little late for that,” Lexa spoke, no longer worried about Octavia ripping her teeth out if she opened her mouth. “We’re sorry. Right Anya?”

Anya’s scoff turned into cough as Lexa elbowed her in the stomach. She squeaked out an apology, having the wind knocked out of her. Lincoln nodded, pulling his sisters into a hug.

“I’ll forgive you,” He said as he let the two of them go, the hug pushing the appropriate time limit for displays of affection from the siblings. The hug surprised Lexa; she expected a handshake as a sign of everyone forgiving each other. “Just no more following us or wedding crashing.”

Lexa could have added on an agreement for Lincoln to actually let them know if he was planning on leaving for more than a day, or actually introducing people to them so they didn’t have to come up with crazy theories about kidnappings and shotgun weddings. But for that moment, Lincoln forgave them. Lexa had faith that he and Octavia learned their lessons about spontaneous road trips, neither needing a nagging reminder from anyone else. What could be a worse consequence for their actions than having it push her best friends and his sisters together?

“Question,” Anya cut the moment short. “Does that apply to all weddings, or just ones of people we know? Because it’s kind of a nice little rush, sneaking in and-“

“Drinking their open bar dry with Raven?” Lexa finished, already imagining Anya sneaking into receptions at random venues back in DC, the two putting their wedding attire to good use.

“Speaking of Raven, do you plan on getting her out of the car?” Clarke asked.

“She’s fine, I left the windows cracked,” Clarke frowned, pointing down the hallway towards the lobby. “Fine, I’m going. Lex, remind your girlfriend who she’s talking to.”

Anya retreated, not before cackling down the hallway at Lexa’s head rolling back, refusing to look at Clarke after the girlfriend comment had been thrown her way. She’d plot her revenge; Anya seemed to forget about the whole driving back to DC with everyone, Octavia unlikely to let her ride back with her and Lincoln.

Cheers came from behind them back on the dance floor, Harper and Monroe walking back towards their table at the front of the room. The band slipped off the stage, a new round of faster songs playing from an iPod connected to the speakers.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take your girlfriend and dance. Let’s go, Griffin.” Octavia took Clarke by the arm and led her away into the crowd. Clarke threw a small wave back to Lexa, standing dumbstruck next to Lincoln. He clapped a hand on her shoulder, nodding over towards the bar.

“You look like you need a drink after the last couple of days.”

 

Tucked at one of the bar tables, Lincoln and Lexa watched the rest of the reception, a beer sitting in front of each of them. Anya and a newly freed Raven sat at the table behind them, Raven flicking balled up pieces of napkin at the back of their heads, laughing as neither turned around, too busy watching Octavia and Clarke dancing together.

“So girlfriend?” Lincoln asked before sipping from his bottle.

“You couldn’t ease me into this conversation?” Where was the anger from earlier? The interrogation about why they didn’t have the sense to at least ask if they were considering getting married? The lecture about personal space and respecting each other’s privacy? She’d even take the reminder about paying for the Jeep over the Clarke conversation.

“That’s what the beer is for.”

Lexa spun the bottle cap from the beer along the table. One of Raven’s paper bullets soared straight into the open bottle, her and Anya screaming in excitement behind them. Lincoln’s raised eyebrow as he watched gave Lexa a clue what was coming next; a two second pause followed their cheers ending, the two running past them out of the room, Raven’s jacket stripped from her shoulders and tossed in Lincoln’s lap as they passed.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather talk about that?”

“That’s absolutely your problem to deal with,” Lincoln handed Raven’s jacket over to Lexa. “Consider it the universe’s way of punishing you for this.”

“You realize they’re going to be doing that in our apartment right? Or at Octavia’s when you’re there? It’s not fun to witness. Ask Clarke about that.”

“Thank you for bringing us back to our original topic.” Lincoln sat back in his chair, arms spread, waiting for Lexa to spill the details of the trip.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Lexa refused to throw a label on anything until they made it back home and had a proper date. One where Raven or Anya couldn’t interrupt with jokes about them, where the entire night didn’t revolve around where Lincoln and Octavia were headed next, where they could sit back and act like normal people not building a relationship after living in a car and hotel rooms together.

Lincoln started to object when Clarke and Octavia dragged themselves over. Octavia dropped her heels on the floor next to Lincoln without a word, the two nodding in understanding before she walked back to the dance floor.

“Will you watch these for me?” Clarke handed hers to Lexa, kissing her on the cheek and running off to rejoin Octavia before Lexa could even close her hands around the straps of the shoes, let alone for a sentence.

“Wow. Anya was not exaggerating the whipped part.” Lexa groaned, throwing Clarke’s shoes on the ground next to Octavia’s. Leave it to Anya to find time to throw her sister under the bus while Lincoln was chasing after her through the parking lot.

“Do not encourage her.”

“Fine, I’ll back off. I can’t make any promises for her though,” Lexa could settle for one less person getting involved in her personal matters, even though Raven and Octavia would gladly jump in to fill that gap. “But really. How did that happen?”

“Clarke’s special,” Lincoln took another drink, letting her continue. “We talked about things. She gave me advice. Made me reconsider the ways I've dealt with things before.”

“Family related things?”

Lexa nodded. Lincoln understood what she meant; their father, their mother, the three of them fending for themselves. Clarke’s words didn’t guarantee a change; she wouldn’t pick up the phone the first chance she got and call their mother. She’d wait a few months, if she ever called at all. Maybe she’d stop blaming her, let the words go unspoken, but still carry their meaning to heart.

“I hope she helped,” He paused, watching Octavia and Clarke together on the dance floor. Octavia flung her arms around Clarke’s neck, Clarke’s arms dangling around Octavia’s waist. Not that Lexa was jealous of how close together their bodies were pressed or anything; Lexa was fine with her and Clarke’s slow dance before being interrupted, anything more likely to send her into cardiac arrest. Lincoln cleared his throat, looking across the table at Lexa. “Look, I’m sorry too. For blowing up on you guys and everything.”

“And?” She could handle him being mad and yelling at her in a parking lot. She could even handle Octavia making vague threats and likely still contemplating her murder in the back of her mind.

“And for not telling you I was leaving and letting all of this happen. I should have known, considering…” He picked at the label on his beer bottle, flicking the shreds of paper on the napkin in the middle of the table.

He didn’t need to finish his thought, both of them on the same page. Lexa didn’t question how long it took him to realize why she and Anya grew so heated over the situation; she was sure it fell sometime between Octavia telling him they were being followed and their goodbye in Albuquerque. Maybe it took hours after they drove off for him to realize they’d been through the same thing too many times before. Maybe he tossed and turned that night wherever he slept wondering how he let his sisters go days thinking they would never see him again, losing him to someone who was just as much of a stranger as the family members they never saw or heard from.

“You two aren’t losing me. Honestly, I couldn’t get rid of you if I wanted to.”

“Anya would find you and kill you before you ran away on your own.”

“And you’d be dragged along as her accomplice.”

Lincoln raised his bottle between them. Lexa picked hers up, clinking them together. Lexa dropped hers back to the table, not entirely trusting that Anya didn’t dare Raven to throw a couple of spitballs at them too. Lincoln noticed her scowl at the ruined drink, offering his nearly empty bottle to her. She shook her head, figuring someone should stay sober for the night; she half expected Octavia and Clarke to slip past them, throw back a few shots, and dart back onto the dance floor in the gaps between songs.

“So, six days in a car with Clarke and Raven?”

“Oh god, I don’t know how we survived.” Realistically, they should have never made it off the side of the road outside of DC together, let alone the opposite side of the country.

“I’m not going to question too much. Mostly because I’m terrified, especially of that,” Lincoln jerked his thumb back towards the door Anya and Raven ran through. “So I’m just going to wish all of us the best of luck with whatever all of this is.”

Lexa looked down at Raven’s jacket in her lap before watching Clarke and Octavia back on the dance floor. The Woods siblings severely underestimated the messes they were getting into with the trio of roommates; if one week long road trip had led to that many stories, what would months of living within miles of each other bring out?

“We’re going to need it.”

 

Two hours later, the reception died down. Nearly half the guests had already disappeared, making their drives back down to whatever hotels they stayed at. Those who stuck around saw Monroe and Harper out of the room, the two heading further upstate to go camping for their honeymoon.

Lincoln and Octavia said their goodbyes, worries of being followed back home eased from their minds. They swore they wouldn’t make a pit stop in Vegas and find the Elvis impersonator Lexa dreaded to imagine marrying them. The two trudged off outside, headed towards the lake the ceremony took place by earlier that day.

Clarke and Lexa made their way back to the car, Clarke’s heels in one hand, Lexa’s hand in the other. They swapped a few comments as they walked past the empty rooms, now locked behind closed doors. Clarke asked a thousand times if Lexa was sure Lincoln wasn’t angry; Lexa countered, saying the only thing that could have made him angry was the few times her and Octavia’s dancing together got a little too risqué. Clarke clammed up, believing Lexa and Lincoln hadn’t been watching them that closely or even been able to see them through everyone else dancing.

“You should put your shoes back on.” Lexa said as they closed on the front doors of the lobby.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just a parking lot.”

“A parking lot covered in dirt, oil, loose gravel, and who knows what else.” She could already hear Raven complaining about the grime winding up on her floor mats or on the seats.

“I’m not walking anywhere else in these stupid painful shoes.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have picked them out.”

“I have an idea,” Clarke jumped on Lexa’s back nearly sending her stumbling through out of the door.  “Let’s go.”

“It’s not nice to make me bear the burden of your irresponsible shoe choices.”

“Oh please, ‘make me bear the burden of your choices.’ Where do you even come up with that?” Clarke mocked her as she pushed the door open, Lexa’s hands too busy wrapping under Clarke’s legs and keeping her secure.

“I will drop you, Clarke.”

Clarke called her bluff right away, nuzzling against Lexa’s neck.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

They found Anya and Raven curled in the backseat of the car, tucked under one of the blankets from the night before. They opted to let them sleep, fearing what they might see if they were startled and woken up. Clarke opted to drive them back to the hotel, Lexa tensing at the thought of trying to drive down in the middle of the night. She kept her cool in the passenger seat, Clarke managing to make it down the curved roads with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on Lexa’s thigh.

Lexa voted to leave Raven and Anya asleep in the car, still not convinced they were fully sober by the time they ran out of the reception. Clarke left the windows cracked after Lexa assured her that the hotel had security cameras watching the parking lot and they would be fine; Clarke seemed to forget the arsenal of weaponry that had invaded Raven’s car since their trip together started.

Clarke leaned against Lexa in the elevator up to their room, worn from a full day of wedding crashing and celebrating Octavia’s forgiveness. Lexa led her by the hand back to their room, leaving the door unlocked in case Raven and Anya decided to stumble in for the night. By the time Lexa shrugged off her jacket and placed the keys on the dresser, Clarke had already claimed the bathroom for herself, the shower running and her heels thrown haphazardly outside the bathroom door.

Lexa lost track of how long she had been laying sprawled across one of the beds, drifting in and out of sleep. She expected Anya or Raven to come barging in and wake her up, yelling about being left to brave the parking lot wilderness and fend for themselves. Instead, Clarke fell on top of her, lying across her back for a few seconds before rolling onto her side facing Lexa.

“We have two beds, Clarke.” Lexa mumbled into the pillow, keeping both eyes shut.

“And here I thought you actually liked me.” Lexa peeked one eye open, barely able to see Clarke in the dark. She felt her fingers running over her spine, dragging across the thin fabric of her shirt.

“I do like you,” Lexa closed her eyes again, sinking into the mattress as she relaxed under Clarke’s touch. “But you can’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy an entire bed to yourself after all the horrible places we’ve slept.”

“I wouldn’t call you a terrible place,” Lexa’s breathing hitched. “Besides, if we leave one bed empty, that means there’s less of a chance that I’ll wind up being dragged into another threesome.”

“I’m still convinced that you’re making that up solely to keep winding up in bed with me.” Lexa rolled onto her back, Clarke’s hand moving to her shoulder.

“It works, doesn’t it?” Clarke mocked Lexa’s words from the night in the bar.

She had her point, Lexa never fighting her about their sleeping arrangements; she could have kicked her out of the beds they shared or forced them to sleep sitting up in the car instead of on top of each other. She didn’t fight those pointless fake couple appearances either. What good would it do for a random cashier or a receptionist or Octavia’s great uncle, who they would never see again unless there was a legitimate Blake-Woods wedding, to think they were a couple? It bought her a few minutes closer to Clarke, a few minutes of imagining what they could have when they made it back home.

“I’m actually going to miss this a little bit.” Clarke continued after a few moments of silence.

“How much did you have to drink tonight?”

“Shut up. I’m being serious.” She pushed into Lexa’s shoulder to drive in her point.

Lexa picked Clarke’s hand off her shoulder, playing with her fingers as she waited for her to explain. Most people wouldn’t miss sleeping in a car, not showering for days, eating cereal and Pop Tarts straight out of a box in lieu of real, fresh cooked food. Most people didn’t agree to go on manhunts with strangers that punched them in the face either though.

“You can’t tell me you really hated Taylor Swift karaoke with me and Raven. Admit it, it’s been nice. The times where we weren’t imagining worst case scenarios about Lincoln and Octavia, where we acted like a normal group of friends.”

“You say that like we’re never going to all hang out together again.” Even if they had wound up hating each other after everything, they’d inevitably have to see each other again. Any activity that involved the significant others of their roommates, they’d be thrown in together like a couple of third wheels whether they liked it or not.

“You tell me. Is it going to happen again?”

“Are you trying to get me to ask you on a date, Clarke Griffin?”

“I mean, if you’re asking,” Clarke shrugged, lacing her fingers with Lexa’s. “I might say yes.”

Lexa had been running on “might”s the entire trip: Lincoln _might_ be getting kidnapped by his girlfriend. They _might_ be eloping in Vegas behind everyone’s back. Raven and Anya _might_ be indecent wherever they ran off to together. None of those had stopped her from moving forward.

“Clarke, would you go on an actual date with me when we get back home? One without my siblings or your roommates interfering?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, knowing damn well their plans would be discovered before they made it back home. Lincoln and Octavia would probably crash their date like they had just crashed Harper and Monroe’s wedding. Anya and Raven would probably hone their tracking skills and follow them the entire night.

“Of course, Lexa,” Clarke pulled their linked hands to her lips, leaving a trail of kisses across Lexa’s knuckles. “Except I’m really doubting that whole no interference thing.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

 

Clarke fell asleep after a few minutes of silence, letting Lexa slip out from under her arm and sneak into the bathroom. Better to act now than wait until the morning, having to deal with Anya and Raven fighting for the shower again. She already anticipated a late start heading back home, hearing the two of them complain about cricks in their necks and sore limbs if they stayed in the car the whole night.

She listened for the sound of the door opening as closing over the running water, the room remaining silent. She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth; waking up without Anya yelling or Raven taking embarrassing pictures for her and Clarke’s sake would be a gift. Stepping out of the bathroom, Lexa half expected to walk in on another one of their uncomfortably intimate moments, or the two of them ragging on her and Clarke for even looking at each other.

Instead, the other half of the room remained empty. Clarke nestled herself in what had been Lexa’s bed for a whopping ten minutes, blankets pulled up to her chin. Lexa knew by the end of the night they’d be thrown on the floor or on the opposite bed. Despite knowing she’d end up freezing, photographed, and drooling on Clarke, she slipped under the blankets and lay next to her. Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist, pulling her closer before the blanket even fell back over them.

By four in the morning, Lexa had been right; the blankets and sheets pooled on her side of the bed, Clarke throwing them over both of their bodies. Through blurry eyes, Lexa could make out the vague shapes of Anya and Raven in the bed next to them, Anya’s snoring cut off by Raven flinging her arm over her face. She still had a few hours to sleep until they packed up one last time; between half of their clothes being strewn across the room and having to get everything back in the car, they were in for a long morning. Clarke shifted in her sleep, tangling their legs further together and burying her face in the back of Lexa’s shirt. Lexa would gladly take the late start to their morning if they needed it.

 

“Get up, nerd bag,” Anya poked Lexa in the forehead, pulling her hand back as Lexa swatted at her, eyes still squeezed shut. “Come on, we let you and the princess sleep in. We have to check out soon.”

Lexa ignored Anya, not sure how she could be wide awake so early in the morning all the damn time, or how her and Raven kept waking up first. She rolled over, turning her back to Anya. Clarke’s arms were still wrapped around her waist, tightening as Lexa tucked her head against her neck.

“Raven, little help here?”

“Why should I help?” Raven asked somewhere else in the room, the sound of a bag being zipped up following her question.

“Because I’m older and I said so.”

“Well, I do have a thing for older women,” Lexa didn’t need to open her eyes to know the body flung on top of her and Clarke was Raven. She felt the vibrations in Clarke’s throat as she groaned, Raven grabbing Clarke’s face in her hands. “Like Clarke’s mom.”

Clarke shot up, knocking Raven on the other side of the bed. She yanked the pillow out from under Lexa’s head, assaulting Raven. Lexa and Anya watched the scene, Raven unable to defend herself, laughing too hard to do anything but half shield her face with her arm.

“Stop. Making. Doing. Your. Mom. Jokes.” Each word was followed by another blow from the pillow. Clarke swung one last time, hitting Raven over the head before tossing the pillow on top of the pile of blankets on the floor. “Years of my mom taking care of you, and this is the thanks she gets?”

“Oh, she’s gotten plenty of thanks,” Raven sat up, wrapping her arms around Clarke and hugging her. Clarke struggled to free herself, arms pinned at her sides. She looked to Lexa for help, but Lexa was too busy laughing with Anya to move. “Clarke, my favorite step-daughter. I’m going to miss the time we spent together.”

“Congratulations,” Lexa turned towards Anya, sitting on the edge of the other bed. “You’re the other woman. You broke up a happy family.”

“Lexa, do not encourage her.” Clarke warned as she slipped and arm free, pushing Raven away and heading towards the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her, cutting off the laughter from everyone in the room.

“You’re not really sleeping with Clarke’s mom, are you?” Lexa had no desire of being dragged into another family battle, having Clarke’s mom storming into their apartment looking for the woman who came between her and Raven.

“Course not, I just like pissing her off,” Raven sat next to Anya, throwing her arm over her shoulder before kissing her on the cheek. “Only person I’m doing now is your sister.”

Lexa scooped the blankets off the floor, throwing them over herself. She’d rather suffocate than have to sit around and listen to their jokes. If Clarke’s frustration over Raven’s jokes about her mom were a sign of things to come, it would only be a matter of time before Lexa snapped to. With all of them confined to a car together for a few more days, it might happen sooner than she expected.

 

“Everything good?” Lexa called out as Anya crossed the parking lot, rejoining everyone at the car. With everything packed and the keys to the room returned, they were set to start the drive back home. Octavia had text Clarke a few hours earlier, letting everyone know she and Lincoln would be staying at the resort for another night before heading back on the road themselves. A breath of relief washed over the group at the message, a lesson in communication clearly learned.

“So what’s the plan?” Raven asked as she climbed in the driver’s seat, Anya by her side. Clarke unfolded the map in the backseat, looking over as much of their old path as she could. The drive could have been a mostly straight shot, but all their detours left them dipping near the borders of other states, taking sharp turns north and south for whatever roadside oddity that attracted their attention.

It took them six days to get that far. Six days of bad hotel rooms and bad weather and random photo ops with statues. Six days of seeing things they wouldn’t have seen if they stayed cooped up in DC waiting for Lincoln and Octavia to drop a message or come back home. Six days of being teased and harassed and mildly scarred by Raven and Anya’s antics, which might have never happened if they hadn’t been forced into a peace treaty with each other and locked in the same car; Lexa might have been able to live without that part though, for the sake of her sanity and sanctity of their apartment. Six days of Clarke going from giving her advice to being a source of peace in the middle of all the chasing people down and getting lost miles away from home.

“I already know what the buzzkill back there is going to say,” Anya straightened in her seat, mocking the way Lexa sat behind her. Her voice sharpened, almost making Lexa wish she had thrown on the southern accent again instead. “We need to keep moving. No stopping anywhere fun or doing anything anyone might enjoy because I just want to suck the fun out of everything. And Clarke.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Lexa shrank in her seat. “The second we get back home, I will kill you.”

“You won’t kill me for pointing out your obvious crush. Not even Octavia killed me for throwing my phone in the car so we could follow them.”

“For the last fucking time, her name is Octa-“ Raven stared at Anya, jaw hanging open. “You called her Octavia.”

“Yeah,” Anya shrugged, throwing her feet on the dashboard. Raven sat there, too dumbstruck to even argue about her boots being absolutely disgusting and spreading filth onto the mat covering the dash. “She’s not all that bad after all. I respect her.”

“Oh, I’m so glad it only took you six days and three thousand miles to realize that.” Lexa could have wrung Anya’s neck from the backseat. She easily could have come to that conclusion while they sat on the living room couch eating pizza and watching TV.

“See, you’re being a buzzkill again.”

“Well, I’m going to start driving before this turns into a bloodbath,” Raven started the car, pulling out of the hotel parking lot and back onto the road. “Where’s our first stop?”

“There’s Bottle Tree Ranch not too far off from the highway we took down here,” Anya scrolled through Raven’s phone, looking at a list of nearby attractions. “Little fifties style diner that looks kind of cool too.”

“If we stop at those, we could still make it back to Flagstaff before night and go to the observatory.” Clarke added as she looked over her own map, little dots littering the paper of all the places they had to skip over to make it to the resort before the wedding. She turned to Lexa, knowing she was already forming a reason to shut down their ideas and push them straight back to DC. Anya turned around in her seat, holding her hand flat in front of Lexa.

“You know what has to be done.”

“Let’s get it over with.”

 

Anya and Raven made their way to the diner, not waiting for Clarke and Lexa as they pushed through the doors under the jukebox shaped archway. The two spent the entire half an hour drive from the ranch pouring over the restaurant’s menu Raven found online, arguing over whether the Marlon Brando inspired cheeseburger or the Buddy Holly one would be better.

Clarke pulled Lexa back towards the car, letting the others find a table inside.

“I know you lost on purpose,” Clarke had watched Lexa’s movements as Anya counted to three in the car, catching the way her hand twitched, almost forming a fist before lying flat in the air. Anya cheered in victory, having sealed their fate to another six days on the road, nothing stopping them from pulling over for every statue and gift shop along the way. More sleeping in cars and suspicious hotels. More souvenirs to pick up and pictures to take to send Octavia in a fit questioning how she or Lincoln could let these things continue. More days and nights swapping stories, sending each other into fits of laughter and embarrassment. “You actually want to do all this cheesy road trip stuff.”

“It’ll be worth it.” Lexa pulled Clarke into a kiss, thankful for what might be the only fleeting minutes they would have alone for the next few days. Clarke smiled into the kiss, taking Lexa’s hand as they separated and walked into the diner.

Raven’s hands shot up in frustration as they slid into the booth seat across from them. Anya grumbled about having to wait five whole minutes for them before they could order. Lexa half read the menu, too busy watching Clarke and Raven run off to take pictures next to statues of the Blues Brothers and Elvis across the restaurant. Not even Anya could pass off her look of excitement when they came back, throwing their phones in their partner’s faces before dragging them off for their own pictures.

Clarke’s phone rang as they lined up in front of a wall covered in Marilyn Monroe posters, Octavia’s message popping up on the screen.

_You guys headed home yet?_

They posed for one last group picture, fully intent on sending it to Octavia and Lincoln to prove they were at least headed in that general direction. Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist, pressing against her until they were cheek to cheek. Raven leaned against Anya’s front, her face barely peeking into the frame between Anya and Lexa. Anya grabbed Lexa by the shoulder, pulling her into a one armed hug, her other hand on Raven’s hip just out of sight from the camera.

Clarke typed a quick message as the group headed back to their table, the waitress already dropping off their plates. Clarke placed her phone in the middle of the table as she stole a fry off Lexa’s plate, despite her own sitting right in front of her. Lexa caught sight of the message to Octavia before the screen went dark.

_Home can wait for a while._


	19. Bonus! Washington, DC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonus chapter to bring this fic to a close, also in case the fandom needs some relief after tonight's episode. Largely inspired by an inside joke with a friend and the expected shenanigans seen in this story.  
> Huge thanks to everyone who supported this, the first fic I bothered finishing, let alone updating.  
> Here's to hopes you'll stick around for some later projects I have planned.  
> tumblr: commandermari

Six days on the road turned into nine days of stopping every couple of hours for something they passed on the way to California or a new attraction that caught someone’s eye. Lexa begged to stop in Roswell for the UFO museum in the heart of the downtown district; they had to shoot down Anya’s request to swing by Vincente’s bar when she realized their path would take them straight through Albuquerque again, compromising by letting her stop at an action figure museum in Oklahoma. Clarke got her wish of visiting the drive in theatre in Tennessee, she and Lexa watching Hot Pursuit in the car while Raven and Anya snuck off to supposedly watch Fury Road from the hill overlooking the other screen in the lot, the two coming back with suspicious amounts of dirt and grass covering their shirts; Raven pointed out she didn’t even need to turn on the interior light to see the giant hickey on Lexa’s neck or that they had put each other’s sweatshirts on instead of their own. Raven burned through the last of the change they dug out from the seats at a game arcade a few cities over, dead set on beating the high score on the Pac Man machine, despite her best attempt falling a couple hundred thousand points short.

Nine days crammed into a car together turned into a week of Lexa not being able to walk into her apartment without seeing Octavia or Raven there, lounging on the couch waiting for Lincoln or Anya, sometimes casually digging through the fridge for food before they headed out. She wanted to complain, but she couldn’t say a word, knowing she, Anya, and Lincoln were at their apartment just as often. At least Lexa had the sense to not steal food without asking one of them if it was okay. Octavia had made off with the last bowl of Lexa’s peanut butter Cap’n Crunch, sitting on the counter eating it when Lexa walked in; Lexa later had to explain to Lincoln how Octavia ended up with a running shoe shaped bruise on her arm and why they needed a new toaster.

A week with barely any privacy still led to Lexa’s first actual date with Clarke. After scouring every inch of her car for any phones or tracking devices, she and Clarke headed off for a night of watching roller derby and a food truck dinner. It wasn’t without incident though. The home team rolled out, the announcer calling out each player’s name and position. Clarke and Lexa shared a questioning look at the name “Anya Balls,” seeing set of eye make-up smeared across one player’s face that Lexa had seen one too many times before being painfully shot during family paintball night. Lexa considered running out of the rink after hearing Raven screaming “Ground their asses, Cheekbones!” while Octavia and Lincoln cheered on the bleachers next to her.

“How does this always happen?” Lexa groaned into her hands, recalling her promise of a zero interference date to Clarke.

“How do you not know that your sister does roller derby?”

“I didn’t think it would be her thing!”

“Get that blocker, damn it!” Raven jumped to her feet, screaming as Anya shoved one of the women on the other team into the railing. “That’s my girl! Keep that up, I’m going to be ‘Anya Face’ tonight!”

Lexa dropped her head against her knees, fighting back the urge to start dry heaving. At least she had the sense to plan dinner after the game, even if she hadn’t expected to be bombarded with more of Raven’s jokes.

“You didn’t think a full contact sport would appeal to someone as angry as her? You’re a terrible sister, Lex.”

“And you’re an even worse date.”

Clarke distracted Lexa with a kiss, assuring her that the group would be too distracted by the promise of seeing Anya ramming players to the ground at full speed and hearing Raven scream overly sexual messages of encouragement to even think that they would find the couple behind them.

Her assurance carried over once Anya’s team won their match, Clarke and Lexa slipping out unnoticed without their friends even so much as turning around. No teasing texts blowing up their phones or incriminating photos of Lexa wrapping Clarke in a bear hug when Anya made her first big play, no turning around and mocking them with kissy faces and cracking invisible whips. By the time they made it to the line of food trucks parked along the street, all worries about running into the group disappearing as they debated over the truck selling gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches or the one with smothered burritos. They settled on buying something from each, splitting the meals as they sat on the trunk of Lexa’s car, people watching as they ate.

“I’m glad one of your suggestions actually worked out for once.” Clarke teased, knowing most of Lexa’s suggestions about hurrying the return trip along after the five day mark went ignored.

“I have great suggestions, Clarke. My present company just doesn’t always appreciate them.”

“I’m appreciating this grilled cheese,” Clarke grimaced as she ripped a corner of the sandwich off. “Seriously, you have the culinary appreciation of a five year old. Grilled cheese and cereal? Do you have a box of dinosaur chicken nuggets in your freezer?”

“I did, until Raven came home drunk with Anya and ate them all last night.”

“You poor baby,” Lexa bumped her shoulder against Clarke. “At least now I know what to make for you on our second date.”

“A second date is not enough incentive for your roommates invading my apartment and stealing _my_ food.” Lexa emphasized the point, noticing Lincoln’s stash of granola bars in the top cupboard never dwindled down to crumbs, and neither did Anya’s container of pretzels on the counter when someone other than the siblings walked through the place.

“What if the second date involves my dress from the wedding?”

Lexa nearly choked on a piece of her sandwich, Clarke thumping her on the back until she started breathing again. Her hand gripped the edge of the trunk, the world still blurry from being seconds away from blacking out and face planting on the asphalt. Clarke laughed as Lexa took a shaky drink from her bottle of water, knowing damn well how tempting of an offer she threw out.

“That might not be the best idea, actually.”

“I can handle it, Clarke.”

 

Before she could even consider handling Clarke in the dress on a second date, Lexa had to survive the first. Clarke pinned her against the door to Clarke’s apartment at the end of the night, hands balled in the fabric of Clarke’s jacket while Clarke ran her tongue across Lexa’s bottom lip. Her head fell back against the door, the thud sounding down the hallway. Clarke pulled back to shush Lexa, their neighbors already sick of them stumbling around the halls at night and threatening to report them to the main office.

Lexa took advantage of Clarke’s distraction, spinning them around and pressing Clarke’s back to the door. Clarke’s squeak of shock masked the rattle of the door in the frame. She gripped at Lexa’s belt loops, pulling her closer, agonized by how quickly Lexa backed away from her once she got the upper hand.  Their hips met, Lexa’s nose brushing against Clarke’s before they tumbled backwards into the apartment, the door yanked open behind them.

“Oh, it’s you two,” Octavia looked down at the two sprawled on the floor. Clarke clutched the back of her head, groaning as Lexa rolled off from on top of her, cradling her elbow in her hand. “Did you forget your keys?”

“I wasn’t knocking for you to let me in.” Clarke winced as she sat up, smacking Octavia in the knee.

“Sure sounded like you were.”

“We were just fine on our own.” Lexa snapped, surprised that only Octavia answered the door, knowing that Anya was likely holed up with Raven in her bedroom. She hoped she was, not wanting to have to walk past Anya’s bedroom in the apartment to get to her own and overhear anything.

“Keep telling yourselves that. Losers.” Octavia scoffed, stepping over the two and heading back down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Lexa helped Clarke to her feet, running her hand over the back of her head to check for any lasting bumps.

“I think you’ll live to go on another date.” Lexa concluded, pulling Clarke in her arms.

“I’m sorry, who are you again?” Clarke looked up at Lexa with a feigned look of confusion. She pushed Lexa back towards the still open door.

“Very funny. You should ice it before you go to bed.”

“I thought I was the doctor here.”

Lexa leaned against the door frame, taking Clarke’s hand in hers. She ran her thumb over her knuckles, tracing between the small bumps before running across her palm and up to her wrist.

“Be careful getting home?” Clarke asked, earning a soft kiss from Lexa in response. “Goodnight, Lexa.”

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

 

One night for a first date turned into four months of being an official couple, and a lost bet between Anya and Octavia over how long it would take for one of them to woman up and define their relationship. Octavia insisted Clarke would be too impatient to wait for Lexa to make a move; she had the right idea, but Clarke found out about the bet and held her tongue, a small slice of revenge for her not telling the truth about Harper and Monroe’s wedding adventure. Lexa caught on after weeks of urging from Lincoln, mostly due to Octavia losing her mind over the bet and it getting on his nerves, asking Clarke to be official after their third date, the first that went entirely uninterrupted; Lincoln accidentally ruined their second, telling Anya and Octavia the two had gone mini golfing, leading to what they called quality bonding time overshooting their balls onto the course Clarke and Lexa were currently on. Technically it had only been a half date, Lexa being escorted off the premises by an employee after taking a swing at Anya’s kneecaps with a golf club.

 

After months of dates revolving around spending as little time in either of their apartments as physically possible, Lexa dedicated herself to making one night perfect for her and Clarke, proving they could spend an evening alone without being interrupted.

She had ulterior motives; Clarke had taken another cheap shot on Lexa’s eating habits, claiming she never saw her eat anything besides bowls of cereal the entire first week that classes started. Lexa would prove her wrong, that she was capable of fending for herself and not relying on things that came out of a box to survive. She spent a full week of Nyko’s lectures looking up recipes that even she couldn’t mess up, a task that took more time and energy than her usual hawking over undergrads trying to slack off in class usually did. Her ego took a hit when Octavia suggested she look up “easy recipes for idiots” after watching over Lexa’s shoulder one night at the apartment; Lexa refused to admit the honey Dijon chicken recipe she found came from one of the first sites that popped up.

Weeks of meticulously planning fell apart the second Lexa started getting ready for Clarke to show up, even with Lincoln and Anya banished from the apartment for the entire night. The power cut out over the entire building, minutes after Lexa threw the chicken in the over, a heavy storm brewing outside. Lexa half considered telling Clarke to not even bother coming over, not wanting her to wind up stuck in traffic when the worst of the storm hit, or getting caught up in an accident on her way over. But Clarke’s name popped up on the screen the minute Lexa reached for her phone, letting her know she was already close by.

Lexa scavenged the cabinets, looking for something to salvage their ruined plans. So much for a nice, home cooked, romantic dinner by candlelight with a bottle of wine; the one time she felt confident enough that her cooking wouldn’t send her or Clarke to the ER, they were forced back to eating untoasted slices of bread with butter and fancy mustard.

With her head in the fridge, trying to make out the expiration date on a bottle of ketchup that turned disgustingly brown, Lexa heard the door open and close, keys jangling as they were thrown on the table near the entryway.

“Oh thank god,” Lexa called out, dragging the trash can next to her as she cleaned out the fridge. “I got worried about you driving through the rain.”

“Yeah, it sure was a bitch,” Lexa jumped at Octavia’s voice, slamming her head into the top of the fridge. She looked over the door, Octavia shedding her riding jacket and throwing it on the back of the couch, drops of water flying off of it. “Picked a damn bad day to take the bike, that’s for sure.”

“What are you doing here?” Lexa asked, seeing the trail of mud Octavia tracked in the apartment behind her.

“I was supposed to meet Jasper to go get some rock samples for our geology class. He bailed, so I called Lincoln to see if he wanted to meet up instead. Now I’m just here until he comes home.”

“No. First off, Lincoln isn’t even supposed to be here,” Lexa remind him and Anya as they left in the morning that they weren’t to come back under any circumstance. “Second, how the hell did you get in?”

“With the key Lincoln gave me.”

“He didn’t tell me you had a key.”

“Yeah, Lincoln doesn’t tell you a lot of things.”

Lexa slammed the fridge shut, kicking the trash can back into place before grabbing a few sheets of paper towels. She shoved them in Octavia’s hands as she relocked the door, pointing at the muddy prints on the ground.

“Clean it and I’ll let you stay until Lincoln gets here.”

“Whatever you say, Commander.”

Octavia knelt down and started cleaning, freeing Lexa to try to salvage the rest of their night. She pulled the bottle of wine from the freezer, leaving it on the counter, throwing the half prepped salad she long abandoned back into the fridge, plastic wrap covering the bowl. Octavia passed her, throwing away the dirty paper towels before climbing on the kitchen counter, raiding the cabinets for Lincoln’s stash of snacks.

“Can’t you wait in his room?”

“Maybe I want to see Clarke when she comes over.” Octavia pulled out a jar of peanut butter, twisting the lid open and peering inside. She reached into the drawer between her legs, looking for something to scrape the sides of the jar with.

“You live together, don’t you see her enough?”

“I don’t know, considering she’s been over here every night the last week,” She pointed a butter knife at Lexa. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on here.”

“Why are you pointing a knife at Lexa?”

Lincoln’s voice carried over from the door, Lexa too concerned about being speared to death with a peanut butter covered knife to hear him open the door. At least he had the sense to wipe his feet on the carpet perched in front of the door before walking inside.

“Protective measures, babe. Just watching out for my girl, Clarke.”

“What did you do to Clarke?” Lincoln asked, cautiously putting his gym bag in the hall closet, ready to jump between his sister and girlfriend if things went south.

“I did nothing. Octavia is trying to shame me for having the decency to keep my and Clarke’s intimate behaviors in our bedroom.”

“Eww, okay, I did not need that mental image.” Octavia threw her knife in the sink, throwing the near empty jar back in the cupboard where she found it.

“Like I needed the actual image of you and Lincoln on the couch two weeks ago permanently burned into my eyeballs?”

The sight sent Lexa stumbling back into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind her. She slumped against the door, rubbing the heels of her palm into her eyes, trying to scrub the image away. Clarke had to come pick her up, too scarred to drive over to the other apartment on her own.

“It was one time. This month at least.”

“Lincoln, will you please take your girlfriend and leave? We had an agreement.”

Lincoln waved her off, pulling his laptop from under the living room table and turning it on. Clarke would be home any minute, less than thrilled to find the two of them lingering around, even if their plans for the evening were ruined.

“Look, let me just finish up this schedule for a client and we’ll be out of your hair. Ten minutes, tops.”

Lexa groaned in defeat, falling next to Lincoln on the couch to make sure he was actually working on a schedule and not loading up a queue on Netflix to get them through the storm. She wasn’t about to concede this fight; she didn’t care if they stayed in his room the entire night, she made a deal that everyone would be gone in exchange for vacuuming out both of their cars each weekend for an entire month. Between Lincoln’s rock filled floor mats and the ridiculous amount of lose screws and bolts Raven lost in Anya’s car, she wasn’t going to put in that much work for nothing.

 “Hey Octavia?” Lincoln called out, not looking up from the document he typed on. “Can you check the dishwasher and see if my water bottle is in there?”

“Are you almost done?” Lexa asked once Octavia mumbled an agreement, ducking down from her spot on top of the counter.

“Lexa, would you calm down?”

“I am calm,” Lincoln closed his laptop, giving his full attention to Lexa. “Fine, I’m not calm. You would be losing it too if your date got ruined.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not ruined. You’re probably saving Clarke from getting salmonella.”

Lincoln’s support of Lexa’s culinary endeavors earned him a slap to the back of the head. He shook it off, turning back to his computer for a few last minute edits. Lexa kept looking over towards the door, listening for any sign of Clarke waiting outside. Only Octavia’s clattering of dishes against each other and the clack of the keys on the computer filled the room.

“Hey Linc, what’s your water bottle look like?”

“The glass one with the grey rubber sleeve kind of thing and the straw lid.”

“Okay, so this is definitely someone’s dildo.”

The siblings looked up, Lincoln nearly dropping his laptop at the sight. Octavia held a pair of tongs in her hand, a bright purple dildo clenched between the metal ends.

“That is absolutely not mine.” Lexa jumped to her own defense, half tempted to run up to Octavia and smack the tongs out of her hand. That would mean someone else would have to pick the offending object up, and Lexa was not about to risk that.

“Well it sure as hell isn’t mine.” Octavia waved the dildo around in the air. “Lincoln?”

“Why would you even ask me that?”

“I’m not one to shame people!” Lincoln rolled his eyes at Octavia’s dedication to her cause. “Look, it obviously belongs to somebody. These kind of things don’t just grow legs and crawl into dishwashers.”

Octavia looked between the two siblings, expecting one of them to own up to the joke. Lexa could only stare, wondering how it wound up in there when she had just loaded up the dishwasher that morning before she even started prepping for the night.

“Whoa, what kind of party did I just walk into?”

Lexa snapped her head around, catching Raven throwing her hood off her head, sending water flying all over the freshly cleaned floor. Grease stained boots treaded over the spot Octavia just cleaned as Raven perched herself on the back of the couch, raising an eyebrow at Lexa.

“How are you in our apartment?” Lexa snapped.

“What’s Octavia doing holding a dildo?” Raven countered.

“Why do I still live here?” Lincoln moaned.

“Will someone please explain to me why I found a dildo in the dishwasher?” Octavia yelled.

“One thing at a time, Octavi,.” Raven said, attempting to calm a still obsessed Octavia. “The power’s out at our place. Where else was I supposed to go?”

Raven started what would hopefully be a series of answered questions, slipping over the back of the couch and landing in the empty spot next to Lincoln. She leaned against the arm of the couch, throwing her legs over Lincoln and Lexa’s laps, zero intentions of moving from the spot for any amount of time.

 “The garage. A coffee shop. Czechoslovakia. Space. Anywhere but here.”

“If you didn’t want me coming around, you should have locked the door,” Lexa shot a glare at Lincoln, putting their personal security and Lexa’s sanity as risk by not locking the door behind them. “Not that it would matter since Anya gave me a key anyways.”

“Why do you all have keys?” The topic hadn’t come up once in discussion. No suggestions that they give each of their significant others a key in case of emergencies, not even a heads up that they might be barging in and out unannounced like their names were on the lease as well. Clarke didn’t even have her own key, only knowing about the spare taped behind the wooden W hanging on their front door.

“Keys are not the important thing here. I want to know where this came from.” Octavia yelled across the room, swinging the tongs and dildo around with more ferocity every time someone avoided the question.

“Please, rephrase that question before Raven makes it worse than it already sounds.” Lincoln pleaded.

Lexa dropped her head along the back of the sofa. The power outage ruining the dinner she worked on for hours was one thing. Lincoln and Octavia temporarily seeking shelter from the storm was another. Octavia and Raven locked in a game of “find the sex toy owner” was out of her hands.

“Oh, this is why you wanted everyone out, isn’t it?” Raven teased, poking Lexa in the cheek. Lincoln leaned forward so Raven’s arm didn’t bump against the back of his head. “You and Clarke planning a little playdate, huh?”

“This is your fault somehow.” Lexa was sure of it. She wasn’t sure how, but something about Raven’s constant smirk screamed guilty. She only had that look when she had a pun ready to be unleashed on an unsuspecting crowd.

 “One dildo suddenly appears in a dishwasher and everyone blames Raven.”

“Raven, there’s a lot of things I thought you wouldn’t do, yet you’ve still done them,” Lexa checked off the list she kept in her mind: nearly fall off of multiple dinosaur statues trying to ride them, befriending Anya, hide from a bar fight started in her honor, dating Anya, print out a portrait sized picture of Lexa drooling on Clarke only to frame it and leave it on Lexa’s bedside table, and most horrifyingly, sleeping with Anya. “You’re the first person I want to accuse. Especially since you returned to the scene of the crime with that smug little look.”

“You know what? I came here thinking I could find safety in the welcoming arms of my friends during this storm. Maybe I should just take my company elsewhere.” Raven gestured towards the windows, rain slamming against the glass, so heavy they couldn’t even see the building next to them. Clarke was still stuck out in the mess somewhere.

“Please do. And take these two with you.”

“I didn’t even do anything.” Lincoln punched Lexa in the shoulder.

“You started dating her,” Lexa punched him back. A knock on the door temporarily distracted Lexa. “None of us would be in this situation if it wasn’t for you two.”

Another knock drew Lexa out of her seat, pushing Raven’s legs off of her lap and fully onto Lincoln’s. Probably the neighbor down the hall complaining about the screaming match going on, the walls too thin to properly block out the argument.

“You and your sister wouldn’t have started dating my roommates if you all had just stayed home and not crashed my cousin’s wedding. The Great Dildo Mystery is all your fault, Lexa.” Octavia stayed rooted in the kitchen, keeping the tongs held over her head as she searched the rest of the dishwasher, looking for more embarrassing evidence.

Lexa yanked open the door, not looking at who was behind it before calling over her shoulder to Octavia.

“Keep trying to pin everything on me and I’ll take that thing and shove it up your nose.”

“Lexa, why are you threatening Octavia with a sex toy?”

Clarke leaned around Lexa, catching sight of her and Raven passing the tongs between each other, a sick game of hot potato going on in front of the dishwasher. Lexa looked at Clarke, confusion and worry flashing across her face as she handed two pizza boxes to Lexa.

“Do I even want to know?” Clarke asked as Lexa stepped aside to let her in the apartment. Lexa shook her head. Even she didn’t want to know at that point. All she wanted was everyone except Clarke to get out of the apartment, off the entire property of the complex, and not come back until the next day. Or week. Or ever.

Lexa moved to close the door behind her, making sure to lock it before stepping away. Just before the door clicked shut, a heavy boot jammed between the door and the frame. Anya stepped inside, shrugging off her windbreaker and taking off her sunglasses.

“Well, looks like we’ve got ourselves a good ol’ fashioned storm party goin’ on in here,” Anya layered on the accent again, looking over the living room full of people. “What the hell’s with all the candles?”

Lexa lined the top of their entertainment center with lit candles before the storm even knocked the power out. She left a couple on the two end tables in the living room. A few on a plate in the middle of the dining room table. A small bunch on top of the coffee table. Scattered individual candles tucked in the corners of the kitchen counters. It started off as a romantic gesture, quickly turning practical; nobody had complained about the apartment being too dark yet, everything clearly visible, much to Lexa’s disappointment.

“Seriously, this is a damn fire hazard. Did you plan on blowing all of these out before you two got to other activities?” Anya looked around the room, putting a few of the candles on the end tables out with the tips of her fingers.

“Hey, speaking of Lexa and Clarke’s activities, check out what Octavia found in the dishwasher.” Raven called out, holding Octavia’s arm in the air, waving it back and forth.

Anya looked over at Lexa, fuming as she placed the pizzas on the dining room table. Clarke stood next to her, trying not to crack a smile at her best friends.

“Well, isn’t that a surprise?” Anya clapped Lexa on the shoulder.

Lexa looked between her sister and her girlfriend, the two sharing grins that Lexa had only seen whenever they started plotting schemes together: crashing weddings, taking Octavia’s motorcycle for a joyride, hiding a dildo in the dishwasher in hopes of throwing a wrench in Lexa’s date night with Clarke.

Clarke noticed the way Lexa’s eyes bounced from Raven and Anya, her hands curling into fists at her side. Anya stepped away, joining Raven and Octavia in the kitchen, popping open the bottle of wine like she was invited to join their evening festivities.

“I’m going to kill her,” Lexa mumbled as Clarke wrapped her hands around Lexa’s wrists. “I’m going to take her to the top of the building and kick her off of it.”

“You can’t kick people off the building because they pulled a prank on you.”

“Yes, I can,” Lexa clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention towards her. “Okay, now that everyone is here, leave us. Outside now.”

Raven and Octavia stared at Lexa for a second before laughing, continuing their game. Raven took the tongs from Octavia, poking Anya in the ear with the toy until she turned around, sparking a game of keep away with Octavia. Lincoln slinked down the hallway towards his bedroom, zero intentions of being added to their shenanigans.

“It has been a while since we had a night together, all six of us.”

Clarke let go of Lexa’s wrists, moving her hands to her shoulders and rubbing small circles into them. Lexa melted into her touch as Clarke worked out the knots in her muscles that hadn’t been there thirty minutes earlier when she had the apartment to herself.

“It’s supposed to be our date night.” Lexa groaned.

“We can reschedule.” It took one pout from Clarke for Lexa to give in.

“Okay. They can stay,” Lexa took leaned against the wall, pretending she didn’t hear Anya making another whip sound.

Clarke pressed a kiss to the back of Lexa’s neck before walking around her. She popped open the boxes of pizza before reaching into the dishwasher for a set of plates.

“Yeah, no. I’m not eating off a plate that’s been washed with a dildo.” Octavia kicked the dishwasher shut, nearly catching Clarke’s hand in the door.

“It wasn’t in there when I did those dishes earlier.” Lexa yelled from the hallway

“The please, tell me who snuck in here and put a dildo in our dishwasher?”

Raven whistled as she sat down at the table, taking the first piece of pizza for herself. Anya slid into the seat next to her, winking at Lexa as she started picking the olives off of Raven’s slice and dropping them on one of the paper plates Octavia found in the cabinet.

Clarke sat across from Raven, patting the empty seat next to her, inviting Lexa to join instead of just staring daggers at Anya from the hallway.

“I’m not cleaning your car now.” Lexa slapped Anya’s hand away as they reached for the same slice. Anya rolled her eyes.

“Oh, trust me. This has been worth so much more than a clean car.”

“You should have seen her face when I found it.” Octavia mocked Lexa’s wide eyed, jaw dropped gaze from her spot sitting on top of the counter. Everyone burst into laughter, even Clarke despite Lexa sulking in the seat next to her.

Lincoln poked his head out of his door, shocked to hear laughter and not plates being thrown or furniture being shoved around. Octavia waved him over, handing him a plate as she leaned against the counter next to her.

“I am going to need that back though,” Anya jerked her thumb towards the toy, still dangling between the tongs on the kitchen counter behind Octavia. “It’s our date weekend too.”

Lexa’s chair scraped against the floor as she jumped up, taking her plate and retreating to her room. Raven and Anya pounded their fists on the table, laughing at the blush creeping up Lexa’s face from her neck as she took off down the hall. Octavia rubbed her hand over Lincoln’s head as he pressed his face into the table top, unable to look at anyone around him. Clarke chased Lexa down, grabbing her by the arm and steering her back towards the table. Lexa scowled as she sat back across from Anya, silencing her laughter only after throwing a mushroom square at her forehead.

Their small scale food fight erupted, Clarke getting slapped with a sliver of bell pepper when Lexa ducked out of the way, Octavia winding up with a smear of sauce down her cheek. The fight came to an end when a rouge pepperoni landed on top of Lexa’s pile of candle on the counter, the flames nearly reaching the bottom of the cabinets. Raven sprang into action, smacking the flames down with the only thing she could get her hands on before the wooden cabinets ignited.

“Looks like we’re cancelling date night too.” Raven said, turning the now melted lump of plastic over with the tongs.

“What did I tell you? Fire hazard.” Anya yelled, content that yet another part of Lexa’s plans had backfired on her.

“I was trying to be romantic!”

“Yeah, nothing says romance like setting your girl on fire.” Raven replied as she sat back down.

“The candles were kind of overkill.” Clarke added, drawing another sigh of defeat from Lexa. The only thing she had going for her at that point was the wine. The same wine Anya, Octavia, and Raven had already drank half of since Anya popped the bottle open. Lexa caved, settling on a warm can of soda pulled from the box under the kitchen sink, surrendering the last glass of wine to Clarke.

 

Ruined dinner aside, they capped off their night with a binge watch of Buffy in the living room, switching between each of the siblings’ laptops as the batteries died down. Lincoln and Octavia fell asleep, Lincoln sprawled over one of the living room chairs, Octavia lying on top of him. Anya fell asleep on top of Raven, pushed off their spot on the couch onto the floor once she started snoring and refused to wake up.

The candles around the apartment sat extinguished, mostly at Raven’s insistence; Lexa finally admitted she had gone overboard when the pyromaniac who toted around a box of illegal fireworks in her car at all times started questioning her concerns for safety.

“You okay?” Clarke mumbled against Lexa’s skin.

Lexa nodded, running her fingers through Clarke’s hair. She looked around the apartment, eyes falling on the shelf above their living room TV. Even in the darkness, she could make out the objects perched on top of it: Anya’s broke pool cue on a stand, the set of dinosaur figures Lexa bought the first day of the trip, one of the pieces of petrified wood Raven bought, a rough sketch Clarke did in the car of the sky the night they stopped at the observatory.

Sometimes she still questioned how they survived the two week trip, let alone came back home and continued putting up with each other. There’d been days filled with threats of moving out when someone couldn’t find a minute of privacy for themselves, let alone if one of their girlfriends was around. But for whatever reason, even with Anya’s terrible pranks mostly pulled on Lexa, Octavia’s constant throwing around of the wedding crashing to excuse any wrongs she did, and the money she still had to pay back to Lincoln for damages, Lexa didn’t regret it.

“Do you still want to kick Anya off the building?”

“Yes. And Raven. And Octavia,” Lexa paused, weighing the crimes of the living room full of guilty parties in her mind. “Lincoln can stay. Maybe I’ll just kick him off the top of the Jeep.”

“You know you can put a stop to this, right?”

“This has always been our way, Clarke. Blood must have blood.”

“You mean dildo must have dildo?”

The two fell into fits of giggles muffled by each other’s hair and skin. Raven, always the light sleeper despite spending nights with Anya snoring in her ear, shushed the two of them loud enough to send Octavia stirring on top of Lincoln. Lexa felt Clarke’s shoulder shake as she tried to quiet her laughs at her own joke.

“Our night wasn’t that bad.” Clarke had a point. Even with their dinner in the trash and the faint smell of scorched plastic mixing with the burning candles still hanging in the air, the extra company wasn’t that bad. They poured over the scrapbook they put together after the trip; Clarke insisted on printing out copies of the pictures, throwing a few of the ones from Octavia and Lincoln’s leg of the trip in alongside theirs. They talked about a potential trip together during the winter break, the six of them renting a van and driving up to Colorado to go skiing. Lexa shot down the idea at first; arming Anya and Octavia with sharp ski poles and sticking them in the mountains seemed like a worse idea than chasing Lincoln across the country.

But Clarke’s talk about renting a cabin instead of staying at a regular hotel, holding snowball fights in the yard, maybe even spending their actual Christmas up there with a tree and all made Lexa reconsider. They’d survived one vacation together; maybe the significance of a holiday like Christmas would force them to put aside their teasing and embarrassing and downright torturing to rest, even if only for a single day of the whole ordeal.

“You can say it. ‘Yes, Clarke, you’re right. I actually enjoy spending time with my family and your roommates all together.’ I won’t tell anyone.”

“You’re not funny, Clarke.”

“Neither are you Lexa,” She looked back towards the laptop on the table, forgetting the episode was still playing in the background. Her full attention turned back to Lexa, pushing their lips together in a slow kiss. Lexa pressed their foreheads together as Clarke pulled away. “But I still love you.”

“I love you too, Clarke,” The words still caught in her throat, even after saying it hundreds of times. She expected one of the knuckleheads sleeping near her to pipe up and say something in their sleep, always knowing the perfect time to ruin a moment.

“Want to get up?” Lexa asked, feeling her own legs cramping as she sat in the chair, not imagining Clarke was any more comfortable curled between the arm rests of the chair.

“I'm happy here.”

Lexa watched from the other chair in the living room as her laptop shut off, the only light source in the room fading away. Clarke burrowed into the fabric of Lexa’s hoodie bunched around her neck, her quiet breaths near Lexa’s ear the only thing she could hear over the rain hammering outside.


End file.
